


Fix you

by MeadowRue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin (mentioned), M/M, a Muggle named Andrew, and an Apple, who apparently is a great fan of Cate Blanchett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 56,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeadowRue/pseuds/MeadowRue
Summary: When going through the legacy of his aunt Bellatrix, Draco finds something that looks like her diary. His mother tells him that only a fool would touch that thing, but Draco thinks there comes a time to do foolish things, like, let's say, defying the Dark Lord and beheading a gigantic snake, so he decides not to be a coward anymore and go fix things.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 65
Kudos: 182





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Having watched all films again after a long time, I realised what I must have missed last time: Neville and Draco are such interesting characters who both undergo an astonishing transformation – and they make a fairly cute couple! ;D  
> Also, Tom Felton managed to bring this sweet and lovely weakness to Draco – I wanted to capture this.
> 
> Despite the warning above, I don't consider this story overall angsty and gloomy. It has its dark parts, but also very light and humorous sides (and of course some smex ;P). Enjoy.
> 
> The characters and the world of Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling!

Draco had seen him trip over legs, fall down stairs, tremble under his own gaze, bunny-hop down the hall, chased by laughter.

He had seen him fall from his broom, whimper in pain from a broken wrist, blow up cauldrons, take Snape's harsh reprimand on shaking legs.

He had seen him run away from him and Crabbe und Goyle several times, seen him wince the moment he set eyes on him, squeak with fear when he had sneaked up on him in the Forbidden Forest and whispered a "boo".

Draco had seen him cry, tremble, whimper, weak and pathetic – and in this instance, when everything he himself had been reduced to was this trembling, whimpering, weak and pathetic mess standing next to his parents and people he despised – in this instance he stepped forward with a firm stance, a gaze so fierce it burnt holes into the air, not a single finger shaking, and told that monster to fuck off.

It was the first time Draco realised that there were choices you could make, simply out of your own free will. Even if it meant you had to pay for them, to endure the punishment: it's been your choice and if you don't regret it even a burning hat and a Body-Bind Curse can't break you.

  
  


When they were leaving seconds later, his father trying to take his hand and he beat it away, Draco looked down on himself for not realising earlier that he himself had had a choice too.


	2. Annales Gentis Blaec

Malfoy Manor was quiet these days. Not that it had been particularly loud at any time, at least not before the War, but usually there had been guests, visitors, may it be business-related or a social call, often invited to stay overnight to put at least one of their four guest rooms to use. Draco even remembered the one time his friends had been allowed to stay over for his 10th birthday. The house had been buzzing, decorated with flowers and balloons and real swans in the gardens and –

Today Draco was happy about the fact that there were no more bloodstains on the marble floor or scratches all over the wallpapers. And no screams. People did only scream in his dreams now. And that was enough.

"Draco, darling, tell Tessy to pour another cup of tea if yours has gone cold."

Draco snapped out of his thoughts and realised that he was still holding his cup, but wasn't drinking. He gently put it down.

"Thank you, Mother, I'm good."

His mother was sitting with him at the relatively small table in their sunny sitting room reading the newspaper and sipping her tea. She had been weak after the War, during the investigations and their trials, but with every day that had passed since they had been acquitted on all charges and Father sent to Azkaban, she'd grown stronger, calmer, and even took a liking to their gardens again.

And to gossip, apparently.

"Is this the Daily Prophet?"

He could hear her laugh quietly. Pardon, _smile_. Narcissa Malfoy didn't _laugh_. "Yes, my dear. Anything wrong with that?"

"No."

"You sounded like it. Forgive me for mishearing."

Draco was deeply irritated. "Is that Longbottom again?"

Now she _was_ laughing. She parted the paper and handed him the booklet with the front page.

"Oh no, I wasn't – "

"Take it."

"No, I'm just asking because I thought he's been in the papers only yesterday and last week and – "

"He was. Now take it. I don't like it if you're staring at me reading."

He took the pages because there was no disagreeing, obviously.

Draco put the paper down on the table in front of him, but was reluctant to look at it, as difficult as it was, with Longbottom moving about it, in black suit and tie and with that dorky bright smile. What got his attention in the end was that Weasley girl hooked to his arm; they, apparently, were getting ready to dance and the headline read:

_Swooning over the Lion of Gryffindor – Is Potter's girlfriend changing allegiance?_

Who would blame her?, Draco thought and snorted.

"Yes, it's ridiculous, isn't it?", his mother said suddenly. "I'm really wondering what everyone wants with him."

Draco threw the Longbottom in the picture a glance and clenched his fist. Was she kidding?

"Well", he began, "he only stood up to the Dark Lord in the most atrocious of situations, when we had over three years to do that and lacked the courage."

His mother lowered the newspaper and gave him a stern look. "Draco. There is a difference between bravery and utter foolishness. It was sheer luck that he wasn't killed."

Draco bit his lip to shut up and avoided her gaze.

Luck, yeah, probably; he still hated himself for never ever having tried. He hated that, in the end, _he_ was the coward.

Longbottom smiled up at him from the picture, giving the Weasley girl a twirl under his arm. The black suit rather complimented him once he carried himself proudly and didn't slouch, with those broad shoulders and that stern look on his face.

Would he have bullied him all those years if he'd looked like that? If he had known that he would be the one to step forward in that courtyard when everything seemed lost?

Draco tried to tear his eyes away from the picture and only succeeded when the doorbell rang.

"Oh", his mother put down the newspaper and stood. "That must be the notary."

"The...?", Draco wanted to ask, but then he remembered. And swallowed.

  
  


  
  


The house was standing on a steep cliff, torn and mad as she had been. The wind was howling, the windows rattled and Draco pulled his cloak tighter.

He hadn't wanted to come, but he hadn't wanted to let his mother go alone, so here he was, freezing to death in a shabby, run down house his aunt Bellatrix had called her home.

Or maybe she hadn't, because she had not left the Dark Lord's side for years.

Anyway, she'd been Mother's sister and he thought he should be there for her in case the death of her would catch her at coming back to her house and there would be tears, but either his mother had no tears left or she didn't regard Bellatrix as mourn-worthy.

"I'll just see if I can find anything that reminds me of Father. I think she has his signet ring somewhere. Don't touch anything, Draco."

"Yes, Mother."

For once he wasn't particularly interested in snooping around. Not here.

As his mother went upstairs, he stayed on his spot in the living room and didn't even dare lighten the fire in the fireplace, although he kept his fingers firmly around his wand.

He looked around, took in the shabby sofa, the tarnished mirror, the crooked cupboards. Everything was cluttered, untidy, full of dust. Except for the portrait hanging over the mantlepiece.

Draco wordlessly lit up his wand with _Lumos_ and took a few careful steps towards it.

A very beardy man with pale skin and black, untidy hair opened his eyes and blinked at him as if waking up from sleep.

"Oi, put your wand down!", he snarled.

Draco lowered the light with a startled: "Pardon me."

Now the light was falling onto a plaque on the frame of the painting.

"Uthric Black.", he read. "So you're...who are you?"

The man squinted at him. "You're a nosy little man. Hasn't Bellatrix told you?"

"No."

"Then I shall not talk to you. Where is she anyway? And what are you doing here?"

Draco hesitated. "She's dead.", he then said. "I'm her nephew."

The painting of Uthric Black looked genuinly surprised, but not actually devastated. Well, maybe a painting couldn't feel like that anyway.

"Ah", Black made with realisation, "So she sent you to fetch it."

Draco blinked. He didn't know where this was coming from, but another blink and he had said: "Yes."

Black grinned dangerously. "Then let's see if you're telling the truth and there's any Black blood running through your veins."

Draco's breath hitched.

"Put your hand to my face, young man."

Draco forced himself to stay calm. He held his breath and tried to steady his arm as he reached up, with his left hand as he still held his wand in his right, to touch the painting right over Uthric Black's face.

His hand barely touched the canvas when he felt a sudden piercing pain in his palm and he drew back with an "Ouch!"

He looked at his palm to see the imprint of teeth and...blood.  _That bastard had bitten him!_

Uthric Black was licking his lips, grinning. Then, suddenly, the portrait moved and opened up like a door to reveal a small safe built into the bricks.

Inside, there lay a book with a black leather binding and a ring.

"Draco? Draco is everything – "

"I think I've found the ring, Mother."

He took the ring and turned around, just as his mother arrived with her wand out. She looked astonished as he handed it to her, a proud smile forming on his lips.

"Oh, Draco, how did you...?" She looked at the painting, the opened door, then at the safe.

"There's also a book – "

"Don't touch that!"

Draco halted with his hand, midair, startled by his mother's almost terrified voice. "Why not? What is it? The man on the painting said I could – "

"It's her diary."

Draco hesitated, then looked at his mother in disbelief. "A diary? Bellatrix?" He couldn't think of anything that she would have written into it. Surely not:  _Oh, dear Diary, I'm so in love, but he won't see me!_ Rather:  _Killed two muggles. Still feeling thirsty_ , or the likes of it.

But his mother looked like she was being serious. "It's the Annals of the House of Black. Only a fool would get their hands on that cursed thing."

Draco blinked. He turned back to the book in the safe and thought of other foolish things people had done in the last year, and at that very moment, there was a mad idea forming inside his head. What if she had...?

"We should leave.", his mother said, already at the door. "Draco, are you coming?"

"Yes", Draco answered and nodded, turning back to the safe. "Well, there comes a time to do foolish things, doesn't it?", he whispered and closed the safe with a spell while retrieving the book with one quick flick of his hand and hid it inside his cloak.

  
  


  
  


Draco made a point of not taking the book out of his cloak until he was in his room, upstairs, behind a locked door. He put it onto his desk, which faced a window looking over their rose garden, before shrugging out of the warm clothes.

He had barely taken off the black pullover he'd worn over his white shirt and carelessly thrown it on the floor, when sitting down at his desk.

The book was embossed with the letters _ANNALES GENTIS BL_ _Æ_ _C_ and Draco couldn't wait to open it.

When he did, the pages of parchment were empty.

"Damn..." Leafing through the empty pages, he felt the excitement creep up his spine and he didn't like it.

He put his wand to one page and muttered: " _Revelio_ !"

The pages stayed empty.

He tapped the page again: " _Aparecium_ !", but with no effect.

"Bloody...!" He threw the book shut and rubbed his forehead. "Would've been too easy, wouldn't it?"

It was warm in here, even hot compared to that crooked house. Maybe he had caught a cold. Marvellous.

He stood up, because he felt the urge to even change his shirt and trousers, so he went into his walk-in wardrobe to fetch new cloths and then to the en suite bathroom.

He came back for the book in a green satin shirt and black trousers, because he wasn't gonna be a coward anymore. This had to end. He wanted something and there was no Crabbe, no Goyle, no Father, not even Snape,  _no one_ to help him get it – so what? He could do this alone.

Determined, Draco started to roll up the sleeve of his left arm. He forced himself to look at the scar of the mark he would have to live with for the rest of his life and opened his desk drawer.

He took out the letter opener – a rather sharp blade with a snake head; he had lied to his mother about losing it quite successfully, thanks to her and Bellatrix's many Occlumency lessons – and brought it to his skin.

He always kept his forearm covered and had not let anybody see it since the War, not even his mother. Of course, she knew about the Dark Mark, but she should never know about the other scars.

They were white thin lines across the stronger one the mark had left, and as much as it hurt, it gave him satisfaction that, one day, it might be covered entirely with them.

So everyone who could see those scars would know that this wasn't the first time the blade cut into his flesh, right into the remainings of the Dark Mark.

It was barely a whimper that left his lips as blood dripped onto the blank parchment of the book.

He exchanged the knife for his wand and pointed it to the page.

"I am a Black. I have a right to see this.  _Revelio_ !"

And the book did.

  
  


Draco sat down at his desk with a racing heart. He tried to ingore the throbbing pain in his arm and stared at the book which revealed itself to him: the pages started to flood with writing in black ink, with words, with drawings, with symbols he didn't understand and a rustling of the papers that creeped him out.

He told himself to  _not_ be a coward and grabbed the book so it came to a halt, opened around the middle.

There was a date in every top right- or left-hand corner. There was a name. This one read:  _Retrieved from Bellatrix Black on 3_ _rd_ _July_ _1967_ , and it started with the words:  _Oh Dear, it's so hot these days, I can't bring myself to concentrate on the things I have to tell you._

It was a fucking diary. Draco couldn't believe it.

He leafed through the pages and while he did so, he could see the ink move. When he stopped at the last page covered in writing, he was just in the middle of the book again.

_Retrieved from Bellatrix Lestrange on 28 th June 1997: I shall not see you anytime soon. Keep our secrets until I'm back._

Well, she didn't come back. One year later and she'd been dead.

Draco closed the book, keeping his index finger inside, and sighed.

So... 'retrieved' likely ment that she hadn't actually been writing in this. It had to be a charm where you could talk – or just  _think_ – to the book and it would note it down. Not unlike a Pensieve.

He bit his lip. Now that he knew how this book worked...how was he supposed to find it? Could he search in it with a spell?

Draco raised his wand when a sudden crack by the door sent him to his feet. He shut the book and hid his left arm behind his back when swirling around.

"Tessy!", he spat.

Their house-elf bowed sheepishly. "Tessy is sorry to disturb young Master Draco, but young Master Draco is wanted in the dining room by the Mistress for dinner."

Draco swallowed down his anger. "Tell Mother I will be there in a second.", he said, trying to keep calm. "You can go."

Tessy bowed her head and vanished with a crack.

"That bloody elf.", he hissed and turned around again to throw a look at the now closed book.

While ranting on about importunate house-elves and needless meals when he wasn't even hungry, Draco hid the book in his desk drawer together with the letter opener after having cleaned it with a quick spell.

Then he went to his bedside table to retrieve an ointment he used to put on his wounds to heal, but as he opened the small flask it was almost empty.

"Fucking brilliant.", he muttered to himself and threw it back into the drawer before rushing to the bathroom.


	3. Cymbalarias and Peonies

"What have you been doing that kept you from coming, Draco?"

His mother was suspecting something when he sat down in their dining room much too late. Of course she was. But Draco was determined not to let it show.

"Nothing. Just finished a letter."

"Oh, a letter?" His mother sounded genuinly happy. Merlin, please, no. "You're finally taking the courage to resume old bonds? ...or weave new ones?"

He sighed and tortured his vegetables with his fork. "Which old bonds are you talking about? My so called 'friends' are all dead or in Azkaban or don't want anything to do with me anymore. Just like the rest of the world. So I told you: I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"No, you're not. You're not eating, darling. You'll vanish."

She was giving him the look. The one that told him that she really, really cared for him, that he was the reason she was still here, still strong, to give him the life he wanted and deserved.

Oh, he'd always disappointed people and he hated it.

"I'm fine. Mother." Just to prove a point he forced himself to eat another slice of pork.

His forearm hurt while cutting the meat.

"So...a letter?" She wouldn't let it rest.

Draco tried not to look or sound annoyed. She didn't deserve that.

"It's only a business-matter. I... I wanted to order herbs", he said, because that was true even though he hadn't written or sent any order yet. "Or do we still have any in stock?"

"Oh, I'm afraid not. But why don't you – " His mother hesitated, then she smiled and called for Tessy who was there in a second.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Tessy, please fetch me the advertisement section of yesterday's paper."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Why don't I do what?", Draco asked.

His mother looked rather content with her spontaneous idea. "Why don't you go and buy them at _Cymbalaria and Peony_?"

He raised an eyebrow at the name. " _Cymbalaria and Peony_? Is that new?"

"Yes", his mother said and thanked Tessy for bringing her the paper before dismissing her.

While she cut out a square from the paper with her wand she continued: "It's a plants and herbs shop in Hogsmeade. The reviews are all exceptionally good." She handed him the cut-out piece. "When you go, darling, would you be so kind as to also buy some rose bulbs I can plant? Peonies. You know how much I like them. Our rose garden needs freshening."

"Er, yes, I..." Draco stopped when he had had a good look at the advertisement of blooming flowers in his hands and came across that name. "The shop owner is _Longbottom_?"

"Of course."

Draco sat upright. "Mother, I can't go there!"

"Draco, keep your voice down. Why can't you?"

"Becau I – he..."

Longbottom would kick him. Kill him. Throw him into some Devil's Snare or behead him with a sword.

His mother was ignoring him. "Peonies, my dear. Let's say...a dozen."

Draco clutched the paper with his fingers so hard that it creased. He took a deep breath. "Yes, Mother."

  
  


  
  


He was only doing this for his mother. Draco wasn't going to let her down when he could clearly see that she made every effort to bring him back on track.

The only problem was, there wasn't any track left, just thicket in a dark forest, but if, at least, it made _her_ happy, he would fetch those peony bulbs.

And he really did need those herbs or his arm wouldn't heal properly.

So here he was, in Hogsmeade the next day, with his hood up to cover his face and avoiding the main road.

Longbottom's shop was smaller than he'd expected. It extended only over one half of the building; next door was a barber with models on its posters who looked like from before the War – the first – and winked at him for good measure as he passed them.

_Cymbalaria & Peony. Plants & Herbs_ .

There was a wreath of flowers on the door. It looked quite tasteful, to be honest. He stopped on the doormat to peek through the small window into the room behind.

"Oh, this is interesting..."

There was Longbottom, wearing Muggle clothes, those... _jeans_ with braces, and a t-shirt that looked like he'd worn it all week without bothering with cleaning it.

And then there was Ginny Weasley.

Draco couldn't help but smirk. Well, well, he'd never thought that any of the 'scandals' the Daily Prophet tried to catch you with had even an ounce of truth to it, but here they were...chatting, touching, her hands on his broad shoulders, his strong fingers clutching hers, laughing, _obviously_ flirting, until Longbottom finally handed her the bunch of lilies and received a kiss on the cheek in return.

"That little bitch...", Draco snorted. "Is Potter not enough? Now you want to get laid by the Sword of Gryffindor?"

Sweet Salazar, he was using that silly, inappropriate name and, oh bloody hell, she was coming to the door.

Quickly he backed away and turned towards one of the barber's posters, his hood pulled into his face.

"See you, Nev!"

As soon as he could hear she was gone, Draco pushed open the closing door and slipped into the shop.

Longbottom had turned his back at him, happily humming to himself while rearranging the vases at the back of the counter.

Damn, he was tall. Draco straightened his back. When had this happened?

"Good day."

Longbottom turned around, and the second he set eyes on him, his expression went from startled to alarmed.

"Whoa, wait!", Draco snapped and pulled down his hood in a hurry when Longbottom's wand was pointing at his nose in no second. "It's me."

"I can see that.", Longbottom said, not lowering his wand. "Why do you sneak into my shop?"

"I did not – " He sighed. "Okay, sorry, I just forgot to pull down my hood. Wasn't clever."

Finally Longbottom looked like Draco knew him: dumb and deeply irritated. "Why do you wear your hood on the streets? It's not raining, is it?"

Draco was at the point of telling him the truth, just to redeem him from his stupidity, but, thank Merlin, he came back to his senses just in time.

His face hardened. "That's none of your business. Now put away your wand, would you, or someone might get hurt."

Longbottom looked at him for another few seconds, then he finally lowered his wand. But didn't put it away. Longbottom didn't trust him. And who could blame him.

"What do you want?", he asked. His voice and stance firm this time.

Oh, Draco knew just as well how to play that game.

He kept a straight face as he said: "I'm here to snatch your Remembrall and then Crucio you. Why else would I come to a plants and herbs shop? Might even want to buy _plants._ "

That hit home. Draco could watch something funny happening on Longbottom's face and then –

Draco's expression faltered. Longbottom was _smiling_ at him?

He put away his wand and actually _smirked_ , most of the tension leaving his body until he was leaning against the table behind him and crossed his legs.

"You're shit at that curse, Malfoy, and you know it. Your aunt's was far better."

Something in Draco stirred and he noticed that it was jealousy. He was jealous of Longbottom that he could talk like that about something so terrible somebody had done to him.

He regained his composure, though, and went for a smirk in return.

"You're probably right."

"Not probably." Longbottom raised his chin, the smile not leaving his lips. "First hand experience." And he sounded as if he was proud of it. Proud of having taken the Cruciatus Curse from Bellatrix Lestrange and walking away from it with all his senses.

Draco's eyes flicked down to the floor. He felt ashamed when thinking back to his time in Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad in 5th year when he –

"Yours was just an itch compared to it, so no need to feel bad about it.", Longbottom said and Draco's head snapped up.

How did he get here? Taking insults from Longbottom?!

"So", the taller one said, holding out a hand towards him. "May I see the list?"

Draco blinked. "The list?"

Longbottom just smiled and leaned on the counter in a way that made the muscles in his bare arms flex. "Yeah, suppose you brought a list of the plants you want?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Oh. Yes. Of course." He rummaged in his pocket and produced the list.

Longbottom snatched it from his fingers and scanned it with his mud-green eyes.

"I've got the Standard Ingredient here", he said then, "and lavender. But I'd have to fetch the other stuff so...probably want to come back tomorrow?"

Draco gaped. Then snorted. "I can't believe it! And Mother said you had excellent reviews. What's the point of a plants and herbs shop if you don't even grow your own plants?"

"No need to get prissy, okay?", Longbottom scolded him, an annoyed frown on his face. "I'm growing my plants at the Hogwart's greenhouses, fine? Not everyone can afford a greenhouse at the back of their shop."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "At Hogwarts?"

"Yeah", Longbottom grumbled as if he was unhappy about even telling him in the first place. "I've got a deal with Professor Sprout: I tend to the plants and prepare them for the students, so she's only got to bother with the teaching. And what's dispensable, I sell at my shop."

"That sounds...like a good deal.", Draco said before he could stop himself. He even had to admit that this looked like a sound and respectable business idea.

Longbottom scratched his cheek and Draco noticed the dirt under his nails. "Yeah. Doesn't it?", he mumbled and that's when Draco noticed that his tanned face had gotten a shade redder.

"I'm sorry.", the taller one sighed and apparently had a few problems to look him straight into the eyes. "I don't know how you still manage to get me all...worked up, Malfoy."

That made Draco smirk. Laugh even a little. "Don't know", he shrugged. "But you're the first one in years to tell me I still got it in me, so...I take it as a compliment, thanks."

Longbottom glared at him, but he did it with a smile. "That was _not_ a compliment. You know what I'm capable of now if you bully me too much."

Draco widened his eyes in feint fear. "Oh, you mean your big _sword_?" Oh Merlin, he enjoyed this too much to be good...

Longbottom chuckled and – wait, wait, did he blush?

He brushed over his face with his long fingers and came out from behind the counter.

"Alright, Malfoy, enough. Let's get you those plants. Wouldn't wanna let you return to your mum with empty hands.", he said and gestured for Draco to come closer.

"Er...what?"

"Let's go to the greenhouses."

"Oh." Draco hadn't expected that. "I'm not sure if I'm in for a walk through – "

"We'll Apparate."

"But you can't Apparate into Hogwart's grounds."

"Oh, I can.", Longbottom grinned and grabbed him at his right wrist. "So hold tight."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but then he felt Longbottom's arm twist away from him and he clung to the other man for dear life.

  
  


He landed slightly out of balance and probably would have fallen over rather ungracefully if Longbottom hadn't pressed him up against his own body, one arm around his back that felt strangely inescapable.

The mud-green eyes blinked at him. "You're light."

"Yeah. Thank you. We can't all be heavyweights." He tried his best to shrug off the arm and put a decent distance between them as fast as possible.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." While Longbottom was apparently gathering up his speech again, Draco looked around.

They were at Hogwarts. They were standing on a slope of fields on which end there were the greenhouses – and there...there was the castle, the towers, the lake, the...the Quidditch pitch.

Draco had to call upon his willpower not to let it show how much being back here seemed to affect him emotionally. He hadn't actually _missed_ it. But after only a year after the... this place looked as peaceful as ever.

"Beautiful, isn't it?", Longbottom startled him as he stepped next to him. His hands at his hips and a beaming smile on his lips he regarded their view. "I've missed it. Totally. So glad to be back regularly now."

Draco didn't know what to say, and when Longbottom looked at him, he turned away and started towards the greenhouses.

"You're aware I haven't all day, Longbottom. So let's get my order."

He could hear a chuckle from behind. "As you wish, Mr Malfoy."

  
  


After opening the greenhouse with a silent spell – probably not to reveal it to Draco, Longbottom shoved a basket into his chest and began to collect the items on his list.

"I'll get you the herbs for the Standard Ingredient fresh from the plant while we're already here.", he announced. "Er, I mean, as fresh as dried herbs get." He chuckled again. Draco was going to get used to that sound if he kept doing that...

"Thanks.", he said, as Longbottom handed him the sack of dried herbs. That would make the potions even more effective.

"You realise you have to brew them first before you can do anything – "

Draco's raised eyebrow stopped him from babbling on, because: _Seriously?_ "I took potions at Hogwarts.", he said and gave a nod towards the direction where the castle would be. "You were there, remember?"

Longbottom blushed. Fiercely, this time. Merlin, could he please decide if he wanted to be the war hero or the clumsy schoolboy?

"So you...you brew potions? At home. I mean, you do that?", Longbottom asked while he shuffled along to get the springs of valerian, apparently.

"Yes, I do. And I sell them at Nocturn Alley to anyone who wants to get rid of annoying Muggle neighbours."

Longbottom threw Draco a look, apparently to see if he was joking, and when he saw his smirk, he chuckled to himself, kneeling down next to the richly blooming valerians. "With those ingredients? I wanna see you try.", he said. "What do you make then?"

Draco already thought about brushing the question off as too nosy, but then he reconsidered and decided that it was more unsuspicious if he simply told the truth: "Ointments for healthy skin or strong hair, or wound cleaning. What comes in handy.", he said.

"And Sleeping Draught?", Longbottom asked, his eyes on Draco's list.

Draco clenched his fists. How did _he_ know? Wasn't he supposed to be crap at Potions?

"Yes.", he answered with, at least, a steady voice.

Longbottom looked at him from his kneeling position, big eyes and straight face and just the slightest hint of worry on his forehead. "Nightmares?", he asked.

That caught Draco totally off-guard. He felt the air leave his lungs and wasn't able to blink.

Longbottom did. He quickly turned back to the flowers. "Sorry.", he mumbled and pulled his wand to cut him the flowers.

"Do you sell them?", he then asked as he stood and bound the bunch together with one swift move of his wand before putting them into the basked Draco was holding. Draco couldn't help noticing how gently he was doing that.

"People often ask for ointments and stuff and I have to send them away.", Longbottom continued, already heading for the next item on Draco's list. "Might as well sent them to you."

Draco blinked when he got the suggestion. He couldn't help but laugh. "Are you serious? Who would want to get poisoned by me, Longbottom?"

The taller one turned around, his hand caressing an oddly tame Fanged Geranium. "Oh.", he said. "Still?" This time his look definitely full of –

"I don't need your pity, Longbottom.", he spat before he could stop himself.

Longbottom narrowed his eyes. He looked offended. "I'm not – I'm just..." Then he suddenly realised: "Oh, that's why...? The hood?"

Draco sneered in defence. "You're not so dumb after all."

Longbottom averted his gaze, then turned around again with a mumbled: "I'm sorry."

Draco followed him into the other greenhouse. "It's not your fault.", he said quickly, afraid the other might have enough of his insults. "You know, the War... Everybody got what they deserved for picking their sides, haven't they?" And for good measure he added: "You, for example, seem to have a propelling career from doormat to most eligible bachelor, Mr, insert any sexual innuendo here, of Gryffindor."

" _Oh Merlin_...!", he heard Longbottom moan and actually cringe at the mention of that. "Please don't. I can't hear it anymore."

"So you don't like to be in the papers every day?"

"Merlin, no! I hate it. Makes me feel uncomfortable." He shot Draco a look. "So please don't mention it."

Draco put a finger to his lips and nodded, eliciting a small smile from Longbottom, who opened a door to a very dark, small room at the end of greenhouse two.

"Only the peony bulbs left then, eh?", he said while crouching to fit under the door.

Draco quickly looked at the basked to see if anything else was still missing. But no. "Er, yes. A dozen if you'd please."

"A dozen. As you wish." He rummaged through the boxes where he apparently stored the bulbs and tubers until he found them and placed them in the basket.

With the last one still in his big palm, he hesitated. Then he looked up and smiled at Draco.

"You know what? Just a second."

Before Draco could protest, Longbottom was pushing past him, heading for the nearest section of beautifully blooming flowers.

Draco gaped. Seriously?

Yes, seriously: Longbottom came back with a bunch of blooming peonies. Gently, he put them into Draco's basket.

"You know what they mean?", he asked.

Draco shook his head. "But you, er...you got them in your shop's name."

Neville beamed at him. "Bravery.", he then said.

Draco tried not to drown in those mud-green eyes and in the end he couldn't help but produce a small smile.

Longbottom nodded and Draco let his gaze drop to the basket, clearing his throat. "Then let's go back, shall we?"

"Yes... Yes.", he agreed and followed Longbottom out.

When they were Apparating back to the shop, Draco clutched the basked tight to his chest, the other arm wrapped around Longbottom's middle, his fingers digging into the white t-shirt and feeling the warmth from the body underneath. He could smell sweat and grass and earth, and it should've been unpleasant, but it wasn't.

  
  


They landed in the shop back in Hogsmeade and let go of each other. As soon as Longbottom stepped behind the counter he tore his hair.

"Oh no, I forgot to put up the sign again!"

"Er, what?"

"The sign that I'll be back in a minute! I always forget that!" He sighed.

Draco couldn't help but laugh. No sneer, just a genuine laugh, and that seemed to make it less bad for Longbottom.

"Okay, what've we got here..." He recounted what was in the basket so the till could add it on Draco's bill and he could pay.

"Keep the change.", he said and Longbottom hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded a "thanks".

"You give my regards to your mother, yeah?", he then said.

"I will, thank you.", Draco answered. "Good day."

"Yeah, see you."

Draco smiled and turned to the door before pulling up his hood.

"Oh, and – Why not bring three or four potions with you next time? I could sell them."

Draco hesitated, but he didn't turn around.

"Whatever...", he mumbled and left the shop with a basket full of ingredients and flowers, feeling almost..happy.


	4. The First Finding

Mother was very happy about the bulbs. And the flowers, of course.

"For me?", she definitely was surprised but smiling.

"Yes. With kind regards from Mr Longbottom.", Draco nodded and was irritated that a small part of him was hesitant to hand the bunch of beautiful flowers over to her.

"They're _beautiful_!", she exclaimed and ordered Tessy immediately to put them into a vase. "They make me want to start with the garden right away! Tessy, I have to get changed."

"But Mother, don't you want to leave that to a garden– "

His mother gave Draco a stern look. And a smile. "You sound like your father. I've always been fond of flowers, so now is the time to see if I still master the art."

And she was gone, up the stairs, with just the slightest bit of too much liveliness to her walk that would have everyone going on about how a woman of her class should behave.

Draco had to smile. It made him happy to see her like this.

He composed himself before taking the rest of the bought items to the dungeons with him.

  
  


It was a bitter place and they had been thinking about locking it for eternity, but then he had found a good distraction in potion making and needed a room without light and enough space for storage...

Now his strategy was to fill this room, secret to everyone he wanted it to be, with new life, with purpose, _good_ purpose, to make the horrors go away.

He had placed a whole set of cauldrons and potion making equipment in here, as well as a fireplace, a carpet and a chaise longue that his mother had wanted to discard. It was quite comfortable, but he had not even managed to let himself rest on it due to the creeps the room still gave him when he wasn't _doing_ something.

So right now, he was preparing everything for his Wound Cleaning Potion. That was the most important one so he could make any progress with that damn book.

It was a bit of a sad truth, but he was able to brew it by heart.

While the potion simmered, Draco took the time to store the other ingredients he had bought. He couldn't help but close his eyes and inhale the scent of the lavender before putting it to the right shelf.

It had been surprisingly...nice to talk to Longbottom. He hadn't expected that. It had been nice to talk to _anyone_ else than his mother, to be honest.

He remembered how Longbottom had sounded when he chuckled. How bold he could look. How _daring_ his smile could get.

_"First-hand experience."_

Did this mean he still remembered what it felt like? How her Curse had felt on his body?

Draco couldn't wait for the potion to be ready. He had to get back to that book!

  
  


With a sigh that was supposed to calm him, Draco sat down on the chaise longue. With his slender fingers that stood out in shocking contrast to the dark leather, he traced the embossed letters on the cover of the book.

He put it next to him on the dark green upholstery of the chaise longue and stood to take off his black suit jacket. Loosening his tie, he sat back down.

Slowly he began to undo the button on his sleeve to reveal his pale forearm, violated in so many ways. The cut from yesterday had dried up, covered with crust, the skin around it turned slightly blue.

He opened the book and saw that it was empty. But he wasn't surprised.

"This family surely has some serious problems...", he muttered to himself and reached for the letter opener.

"Might be the reason why I fit in so well – _nngh_...!"

It hurt to harm his own flesh, and that was the thing that surprised him most.

  
  


After following the known procedure, the book came to life and he swore to himself that he would take full advantage of it this time.

Determined to stop beating around the bush, he pointed his wand to the book and tried his luck with the charm to search for a word. If the words had gotten onto those pages by magic, then surely magic would be able to scan them, wouldn't it?

" _Monstra_ 'Cruciatus'!"

The book stirred, then its pages began to turn, faster and faster, until it opened quite at its beginning.

  
  


_Extractum ex Uthric Blæc XV kal. februarii a.d. DCCCIC: Cruciatus vexatoris filiae mea_

  
  


Draco's throat escaped a strangled laugh.

Latin! _Marvellous_. He loved his life.

He was about to throw that damn book to the floor, when he realised that it was about time he stopped being such a brat. Sod it! He wasn't doing this because it was _fun_. He was doing this to finally _do_ something.

So he got up to fetch ink and quill and parchment and even the much loved and celebrated (kidding) edition of _Latin to English for Modern Witches and Wizards_ from their library.

As his mother was still working in the gardens, Draco had the whole day to himself and this bloody book. He made progress, of course, he'd been learning Latin since he'd been five, but it was still a struggle.

Thank Merlin the Wound Cleaning Potion came out rather magnificently, so he felt the soothing effect of the ointment and the immediate decline of pain as soon as he put it on his arm.

With that relieving feeling he battled on against Uthric and his pathetic use of Latin language until he had translated the three pages of his entry and went back to the chaise longue because his back hurt.

For the first time, he lay down on it, shaking.

  
  


_Retrieved from Uthric Black on xx February 890: The torture of my daughter's violator_

_I have finally found him. It had been my fault to assume he had gone into hiding, because, I was wrong, he lived in broad daylight as if nothing had happened. When I reached his home at the end of the village near the woods, he greeted me with an insulting smile and – hear this: asked me how my daughter was._

_I totally lost control of all of my senses. I pulled my wand and the first curse that left my lips was meant to kill him. He repelled it, fought back, and he did so quietly because his tongue was busy with humiliating me only further. I gained back some wits, controlled my emotions, and hence I beat his jinxes and curses with composed magic. When he was with his back to the woods, the trees blocking his further retreat, I no longer had the wish to kill him. I wished for him to suffer forever-lasting mind-wrecking agony._

_I screamed "Crucio!" ("I torture") and as soon as the red light hit his body he fell to the ground, began to thrash about, and I heard him make strangled sounds, but I wanted him to scream. I hit him again with the spell, this time a sharper idea of what I wanted to do to him in my head, and so he screamed and didn't stop until I left him there._

_Maybe I will elaborate on my precise thoughts and their effects on the spell and therefore on him in the near future, but today I only want to go hold my dear child and tell her that everything will be fine for he is no longer a threat to anyone, but only a prisoner in his now useless body with a wrecked mind._

  
  


Draco could hear the blood rushing in his ears. His heart was pounding fiercely in his chest and his mouth had gone dry.

He wet his lips.

Yes. _Yes_! Please, that was what he was looking for!

He grabbed the book he had been careful not to close, and turned over to the next page with trembling fingers.

When he saw the schematic drawings and charts it made his heart flutter.

" _Yes_!"

He was going to study this bloody book, absorb every information it had to give to him; he was going to learn that spell and he was going to master it!

When he went to sleep that night, he finally felt worth living again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea that the Blacks were the inventors of the Cruciatus Curse, I got from mayachain's thrilling story: "On this journey your only heart". I don't think this is canon, haven't seen it somewhere else before. Anyway, check it out :)


	5. The Composition of Dreams and Curses

When Draco woke up the next morning, in cold sweat and heavily disorientated, it took him longer than usual to come back to his senses. The dream he had woken from felt like a nightmare, but not quite, because when waking from such, he'd always been relieved that it was over the instance he got a glimpse of the sunlight falling through the curtains. This time he felt disappointed.

Breathing heavily he turned to his side – and that was when it hit him like a train: the scent of sweat and earth came rolling back to him in a wave, the sound of his chuckles, the phantom touches of his strong fingers, pressing into his white skin, leaving bruises, biting his neck, his thigh...

"O-oh, fuck..."

His nightmare-turned-into-a-wet-dream had been about Longbottom. How could his bloody brain dare betray him like that?

Draco drew a shuddering breath and pressed his face into his pillow as his erection pressed into his right palm.

Okay, this was no problem. Probably since he had been 13, he had had wank fantasies about nearly every boy at Hogwarts, and not even all of those boys had been necessarily handsome – Merlin, in times of need, even someone like Goyle would do if they had certain male attributes he'd always liked, like...like broad shoulders...big hands...

He was stifling a moan in his pillow.

...strong arms...long legs a-and... His mud-green eyes, his full lips, fuck, how they would feel around his –

Draco grit his teeth, shut his eyes, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop thinking about Longbottom – he didn't want to stop, for Merlin's sake, and it was doing unspeakable things to his body.

It could have been no problem at all, but he wasn't 16 anymore and this wasn't a blurred, mismatched schoolboy's fantasy. No, this, this was pathetic, but it didn't stop him from whimpering, because he had to fight back a moan so hard as he came in his own hand.

  
  


He was so in trouble.

  
  


  
  


"Good morning, Draco. You like to make the most of your days without any appointments, don't you?"

Draco was fighting back the blush and, strangely, didn't have to try too hard to display a genuine smile as he was greeting his mother with a kiss to her cheek at 11 o'clock in the morning. "Yes, I do, Mum."

She looked at him in surprise about this affectionate greeting and, to be honest, he was surprised too. But neither of them was displeased by it.

"How are the peonies? All planted yet?"

"Yes", his mother nodded as he sat down to take his late breakfast. "I just finished the rest this morning. Tessy was of great help.", she added as the elf had popped into the room with toast and scrambled eggs.

"Tessy is always happy to be of great help to her Mistress.", Tessy bowed and threw Draco a short look before she was gone with a crack again.

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Did she know something? What he was up to? ...or what he had done this morning?

"Draco, dear, eat or it will get cold.", his mother reminded him and he turned to his plate.

It wasn't too much that Tessy had served, surely because she knew he was eating poorly since the War, so he really managed to empty all plates for the first time in...ages, it felt.

His mother looked as proud as the time he had managed to turn his soup blue with one clap of his hands when he'd been six.

"You should go out sometimes.", she said. "The sun has magic healing powers of its own, especially for the soul."

Draco didn't mean to, but he snorted. "Yeah, I want to see it try."

His mother gave him a stern look.

"Alright.", he said. "I'm considering it." He wasn't really.

"Excuse me", he then stood, "I have things to do."

He could feel his mother's gaze following him to the door. "Again? You're rather busy since we came back from Winding Rock."

"Yes", he simply said and then reconsidered, because he couldn't have her find out. "It's...a deal with Longbottom.", he lied. Well, it wasn't a whole lie; Longbottom had been the one to make the offer. "I'm brewing potions for him."

"Oh, you're going into business with him?", Mother asked with just the slightest hint of contempt about that prospect.

"We'll see.", he said and wanted to leave it like that. "I'll be back for dinner."

With that he went straight down to his room.

  
  


  
  


Of course he wasn't brewing potions for Longbottom. He grabbed the book, put it on his desk with a thud and opened it.

As he was rolling up his sleeve, Draco realised he was angry. Angry with himself that he couldn't be a better son. That she still believed there was anything that could be repaired.

Yes. Yes, there was something at least, he reminded himself, and it was definitely worth his blood. All of his blood.

He threw the knife to the floor and fumbled with the flask with one hand, shaking slightly until the cool ointment soothed his skin.

He didn't let himself be detained any longer and grabbed quill and parchment and that bloody book to go to work.

  
  


Today he was learning about the composition of the curse. The thoughts correlating with every wand movement. It was there, in a perfect table with illustrative drawings and helpful notes, and Draco was trying to absorb every detail.

When his head was spinning, he decided to take a break. He felt thirsty, but his arm hadn't healed yet, and he wasn't going to ruin another shirt today, so he just searched for an empty bottle to fill it with Aguamenti.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he let his eyes travel over his desk and the cauldron...

Oh, sod it, he was going to brew those stupid potions, at least it was a distraction.

  
  


He came back for the book when the last of the potions was cooling down, this time taking out his wand to imitate the movements Uthric Black was describing.

Apparently there were two different approaches to this curse: firstly, you could just want to inflict great pain on your victim, no matter how or where exactly, and Draco was under the impression that this had been the approach the Carrows had supported when they had taught them the curse.

Then, there was the more refined approach where you had to have a very clear picture in your head of what you wanted to do to the other person: what body part you wanted to touch with the curse, if you wanted to tickle it, beat it, stretch it, crush or deform it.

A profound knowledge of the human anatomy and medieval instruments of torture seemed to be of help.

Draco let the book slip from his hands into his lap and took a deep breath. He brought his hands up to cover his face, which felt alarmingly hot. Or his hands were just very cold.

He knew he was being a coward again. He knew that he couldn't go through with it in the end, could he?

"Damn that bloody Black!", he shrieked and hit the book so hard it flew across the room and crashed to the floor a few feet away.

His hand hurt from the hit and when he looked at it he could see a red streak on the side of his middle finger.

He blinked as he heard his father's voice from another time, yelling at his mother: " _He's not a bloody china doll!_ "

He hated it. He hated being so _weak_!

Clenching his wand, he forced himself to take a few deep breaths, then he stood and walked over to the cauldron.

He made it to its rim where he supported himself with his hands, because his head was spinning with red light and screams of agony.

He managed to take a look into his cauldron at what looked and smelled like a perfect Sleeping Draught. The scent that normally held something comforting made him overcome with nausea.

His shaking legs gave in as he threw up on the floor.

Maybe it had been too much he had eaten this morning after all. Maybe his body was plotting against his will to do something useful with it after all those years.

Draco managed to stand up and, feeling disgusted by himself, cast a cleaning spell at his mess.

He drew a few even breaths and looked around.

This was still his room. No chains, no Death Eaters, no corpses.

The book was lying on the floor, closed. He was definitely not going back to it now.

On his desk, there were several flasks already filled with skin- and hair-care potions and even a few with the Wound Cleaning Potion.

Maybe he should...

He pondered, his breathing slowing down again, but in the end, he already knew that he was going to see Longbottom again today, didn't he?

  
  


  
  


It was already half past six when Draco Apparated into Hogsmeade, his hood covering his face and a bag full of bottled potions with him.

He passed the sleeping posters of the barber and – _wanted_ to enter Longbottom's shop, but what he saw through the windows kept him from doing so.

Longbottom wasn't alone – again – and this time he was dancing. With crazy Loony Lovegood. They were waltzing through the shop, Longbottom leading her from one end to the other, spinning her around and catching her again until she flung her arms around his neck and they smiled at each other, looking madly in love.

Draco didn't understand what it was that bothered him so much about it. When he did, he tried to deny feeling hurt, but it didn't work. He forced himself to look away and already took a step back, when the door of the shop suddenly burst open.

It was Longbottom, pushed out of the door by Lovegood, a surprised look on his face.

"See. I told you he's here.", she said in her quiet singsong voice.

"Er...hello, Malfoy. Are you looking for me?", Longbottom found his tongue again, a hesitant smile on his lips.

Draco blinked at him, because he just then remembered what those lips had done to him in his –

He snapped back to the present.

"Don't call my name or the whole bloody street will know that I'm here, Longbottom.", he hissed and pushed past the couple until he was inside and pulled down his hood.

"Sorry, I...er..."

"I was looking for you, but I didn't want to spoil your date, though.", he said, sounding as drily as he could.

Longbottom blushed while Lovegood sniggered. "Oh no, this...this is not how it – "

"I think I should go.", she said, taking Longbottom's big hands in hers and saying goodbye with her eyes. Gliding backwards, she waved at him. "Feel free to pop in tonight, Neville."

Longbottom clearly didn't know what to do with his hands. "Alright. Thanks.", he mumbled and his wave ended in a nervous scratch at his cheek before his eyes darted towards Draco, who was seriously wondering when that bumbling idiot had become such a ladykiller.

"Hi, er...what do you want?", Longbottom asked.

Even though Draco couldn't deny gaining some sort of satisfaction out of the fact that he had driven the loony girl away, he felt somehow uncomfortable being alone with the other man now, as Longbottom clearly didn't want his presence.

"You know what?", he snapped. "Forget it and go after her."

He wanted to leave, but Longbottom blocked his way. Quite effectively, with his full body. "No, don't go. I'm really interested why you're back.", he said and it didn't sound like a lie. "I-I mean I'm closed already, but...but I could make an exception if you needed something."

Draco hesitated, already a snide remark on his tongue, but Longbottom's eyes were wide and pleading and Draco was in a poor condition.

"I brought you the potions.", he simply said, his voice neutral.

Longbottom's eyebrows shot up and he smiled in disbelief as Draco emptied his bag onto the counter.

"Wow! You did it! And so many, thank you!", he rambled excitedly. Draco couldn't help but register the light feeling in his chest.

"Well, they are not many. I've labelled them. And I brought only two Wound Cleaning Potions and one Sleeping Draught. But well...who knows if anyone will buy them at all.", he shrugged.

"They will. Definitely.", Longbottom was sure and his smile was genuine and captivating. He went to his till. "What do I owe you?"

It took a second for Draco to understand. "Money? No. You haven't even sold one yet. I won't take anything for it."

Longbottom hesitated. "But you payed for the ingredients last time." He was thinking and Draco already knew what he was going to say: "Let me give you new ones, okay? As a sort of compensation."

Draco sighed and tried to smile. He realised how tired he was, but he wanted to stay.

Longbottom must have seen how his resistance crumbled, because he came towards him and offered him his arm with a beaming smile.

Draco snorted to hide how very much he liked touching Longbottom's arm and letting himself be pulled against his chest.

  
  


They hit the grounds of Hogwarts and Draco could all but shove Longbottom out of the way, because, otherwise, he thought he would puke on his shoes. But there was nothing left to be spilled, apparently, and so he just stood there trembling and dizzy and pathetic.

"Whoa, you're okay?", Longbottom helped him stay upright.

Draco spat on the ground to rid himself of this disgusting taste in his mouth. "Apparently not.", he pressed through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, yeah, I see that. Wanna sit down?"

"No, just get me back."

"Why are you so bloody rude today?", Longbottom asked suddenly, and he sounded frustrated and, maybe, a bit hurt, but that didn't stop him from grabbing Draco's right arm and throwing it over his shoulder. He was almost brutal in the way he clutched Draco's wrist with his hand and flung his other arm around Draco's middle to support him when he started dragging him down the hill towards the greenhouses.

"I'm always rude.", Draco gritted.

"Not last time."

"I'm not feeling well, okay?"

"Yeah, we've established that. So shut up, Malfoy, and I make you some tea."

Draco stiffened as his heart skipped a beat at those words. Merlin, when did Longbottom get so confident around him? This wasn't supposed to be how things went.

He did shut up, though. And sat down where Longbottom put him (on a stool between a cage of Bouncing Bulbs and Belladonna in front of what was a kitchenette) and waited for him to come back with tea.

"Here.", he handed Draco a cup, all smiles and soft again. "I used some herbs that should calm your stomach."

"Thanks." He took a careful sip.

"You're welcome." Longbottom sat down next to him, on the stone floor. But he was wearing jeans again which had dirt on the knees, so he probably couldn't be bothered anyway.

Draco averted his eyes. "I hope you did not use these.", he said, eyeing the Belladonnas instead.

Longbottom snorted. "Common. I don't hate you enough to kill you."

"Ah, now that's comforting."

The taller one chuckled and buried his head in his hand for a moment.

Draco sipped his tea. It really did help calm his stomach.

"So." Longbottom slapped his thighs and got up. "I'll fetch you the ingredients. Call me if you need something."

Draco nodded. "I will shoot a Periculum."

Longbottom turned his head at that and shot him an indefinable look, so Draco couldn't tell if he too remembered their detention in the Forbidden Forest together in first year where he had scared that poor little clumsy boy just for the fun of it and he had let lose that spell.

That memory seemed like from another time...

"You prat." Longbottom chuckled to himself as he left.

Draco watched him go, his hands clutched around the teacup.

  
  


For the next minutes, Draco closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the plants and the pottering about of Longbottom.

He had helped himself to his second cup when the other man came back with a basket full of fresh ingredients.

"That's it, I think.", he said. "How's your stomach?"

"Better.", Draco nodded. "Thank you for fetching them.", he stood and took the basket. "I'd better leave then, so you can catch up with your, er – girlfriend, I suppose."

"Oh, no, Luna's not my girlfriend, that's...we were just...", Longbottom fumbled for words.

Draco found that rather amusing. "Right.", he said, "And I guess Ginny Weasley is neither, although you flirt and kiss and give her flowers."

Now Longbottom was speechless and his face very red.

"Don't worry", Draco patted his arm, "I'm not gonna tell Potter. To be honest, I rather like the idea that even his girlfriend noticed that he's not particularly good loo – "

His words were cut off when Longbottom grabbed his wrist.

"I'm not dating Ginny! She's my best friend and she only loves Harry!", he said, glaring at him.

Draco was shocked about that outburst, but he tried to brush it off. "Okay, good, calm down."

Longbottom did. Or at least he let go of Draco's wrist. He could see how his skin had turned red there from the pressure and hid it under his sleeve.

"Sorry. I just..." Longbottom ruffled his hear and Draco did him the favour of stirring their conversation back into safe waters.

"You don't happen to have any Flobberworm mucus, do you?" He had wondered, because he needed it for the Sleeping Draught.

The other blinked at him for a second, then he nodded.

"Oh yeah, I do. Well, I've got the worms. Little buggers. You know how to extract the mucus, right?"

"Right.", Draco said and Longbottom hurried off with a "Wait, I'm gonna fetch a jar."

The next minutes he could watch him crawling around between the plants and put slimy worm after worm into the jar.

"You've got quite a lot of them here.", Draco commented.

Longbottom made a face. "Too many for my taste. Er...do you know a potion to keep them away from my plants?", he asked and sounded rather desperate what made Draco laugh.

He didn't even notice until Longbottom turned to look at him with a surprised smile on his lips.

Draco averted his gaze. "No, I don't, but I can look for one in my books."

"That would be just perfect."

  
  


It was a strange feeling talking to Longbottom like that, just the two of them, here at Hogwarts, because of everything that he had done to him at this place. _Despite_ all the things he had done to him.

He felt like a fox must feel when he meets the cub he tormented last spring and has to realise that it's a grown wolf now. Neither of them would know how many steps to take forward and when to back down.

Draco didn't want to back down. Not yet. But it was incredibly hard to walk this thin line.

  
  


When Longbottom Apparated them back to his shop, Draco shamelessly clung to his warm body and blamed it on his stomach.

  
  


When they said their goodbye and Longbottom smiled at him, there was a moment when Draco thought: maybe, he didn't have to do this, because Longbottom was fine; he had come to terms with all of this.

"Are you happy?", he asked, because, apparently, his brain was too tired to stop him from saying it out loud.

Longbottom blinked. He hesitated, his smile faltered and he avoided Draco's gaze.

"I mean...happy, that's a big word, isn't it?", he finally answered and his smile came back, shy and sweet. "Let's say I'm quite alright. And you?"

And he?

Draco only sneered. Because that's all he was good at.

  
  


When he left the shop he knew that he was probably late for dinner and he didn't want to keep his mother waiting; nevertheless, he didn't walk but stroll and he happened to stop in one of the gaps between the houses on the opposite side of the street. And so he happened to see Longbottom come back down the stairs from his flat in a fresh shirt and trousers to step into the streets, close his shop and Apparate.

"Not your girlfriend. Sure."

  
  


His mother was disappointed that he didn't eat much at dinner, of course, but this sickness in his stomach, it was a sickness he had not known before.


	6. The Disappearance of Peacocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather dark one...sorry. But there's fluff at the horizon!
> 
> WARNING: animals are hurt in this chapter!

Draco didn't sleep much these days. Naturally, he hadn't slept much since the War, but since coming back from Longbottom five days ago, he had stopped taking the Sleeping Draught. He felt it kept him from more important things when he was drowsing until late into the day.

He made use of the ointment all the more though, because Bellatrix hadn't been as organised as Uthric Black apparently. Merlin, if he was in a position to judge (and he _was_ after reading hundreds of pages of her babbling nonsense) she'd truly sucked at any kind of systematic thinking!

It had taken him hours to find the entry in which she finally talked about finding Uthric's curse, and even more to find the one in which she talked about her interpretation of it. And all the while he let himself be distracted. He hated it how she managed to absorb him into her craziness again and again, how every mentioning of a name known to him made him stop and read, even if it had nothing to do with his task!

  
  


"Darling, are you alright?"

He was barely there during mealtimes. Physically, yes, but with his mind he was down in his room, immersed in that book.

"Yes.", he answered before actually looking up to see his mother's worried face.

"You look very tired, Draco."

"I didn't have much sleep tonight."

"You should go out sometime. You look pale."

"I always look pale. It's my skin colour."

"No, Draco, you look sick."

"I'm al _right_!"

His outburst shocked them both and he apologised immediately, feeling terrible. He put his napkin on the table and left.

  
  


The book greeted him with empty pages, as if it wanted to mock him. He had tried a curing spell on his arm, but he wasn't really good at those, so it hardly had had any effect. It hurt, but he knew he was close. There was only one thing left he had to find out.

  
  


_Retrieved from Bellatrix Lestrange, 9 th November 1981: We've found the Longbottoms!_

  
  


She had used her usual curse, the one she had used since finding Uthric Black's description in 1972 and perfected until 1975. Since then, it had always been the same one. She had found a way to attack her victim's body at exactly the right places to leave them with just enough brain capacity to still be able to speak but at the same time ridding them of their willpower to refuse her.

The very thought that this was the curse he had to master, scared him.

  
  


This evening he received an owl from Longbottom, who wrote that all his potions were sold and sent him the money they had made in a small bag.

Draco sat down at the desk in his bedroom to compose an answer immediately, even though his hands were shaking from lack of sleep.

He thanked Longbottom and explained to him what ingredients he would need for that potion to keep away the Flobberworms.

He was able to sleep that night for the price of allowing himself to indulge in childish, futile fantasies.

  
  


It was a great joy to his mother when Draco spent more time outside the house. He would sit with her and watch her garden or walk around, taking in the sun, the smell of grass and flowers. The life.

She didn't even notice that he was following Father's white peacocks around.

He had studied their anatomy and even though it was rather remotely related to the one of humans they would have to do.

  
  


Draco knew that, although having been acquitted on all charges regarding the time before and during the War, he surely was on the Ministry's list of persons who were under close watch and therefore would be subjected to close scrutiny if anything whatsoever only _hinted_ at him putting one toe out of line.

And he knew that he was going to perform an Unforgivable Curse. So he basically was buying himself a one-way ticket to Azkaban if someone should find out about it.

That's why, in the end, he was rather glad about that, in principle, horrible hidden room in their dungeons, but as it was practically non-existent he was sure that anything that happened inside of it would never reach the surface.

  
  


As if sensing the danger, that stupid bird was throwing a tantrum, nearly knocking over his cauldron, flapping its wings and attacking him with its beak.

Draco jumped back, throwing several hexes at its feet and missing on purpose. But it scared the thing away, and as pretty and innocent as it looked, Draco tried to remind himself of how one of those little buggers had bit him when he'd been a child and how he hated it coming across their excrements in the garden, and that, in fact, it was nothing else: a thing. An object he had at his disposal and if he _had_ to use it he just fucking _did_!

" _Crucio_!"

The red flash of light, the power shooting through his arm, the twitching of wings and feet and sounds like from an animal at slaughter.

Draco couldn't stand it, he crushed back into the chaise longue and felt his heart skip a beat as the spell broke and the thing sprang to its feet, trying to run for it.

He felt the panic rise in his chest, the feeling of being unworthy, a coward, a loser, the certain knowledge that he was never, ever going to make this if he couldn't hurt a damn, bloody peacock!

His nostrils flared and he jumped back to his feet, flinging his wand at the bird.

" _Crucio_!"

The thing squawked, twitched, scattering white feathers across the floor, but Draco gritted his teeth and held the spell, he concentrated on what he wanted to do, what he wanted to do to that thing, and he forced himself to go through with it.

When he broke the spell with a scream of his own he was shaking, panting and only after a moment of uneven breathing did he realise that there were tears in his eyes.

The bird wasn't moving.

It took him several seconds to finally make himself go and have a look at it.

It was dead.

Draco buried his face in his armpit to stifle his sobs.

He had failed.

When he thought about what to do with the carcass, he threw up.

  
  


"Draco, darling, you've spent yesterday evening in the garden, didn't you?"

Draco looked up from the food he was barely touching, caught. "Er, yes, I have, Mother.", he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Did you happen to notice anything odd?", she asked.

"Odd?", he said, fighting the trembling in his hands. "No. It was perfectly quiet. Why?"

His mother sighed. "I was under the impression that one of our peacocks had gone missing. Tessy is worried that we have to deal with a stray dog or fox."

He swallowed. "Well. I'm sure you'll manage."

  
  


It had been the first and last peacock to die at his wand. The anxiety of having to dispose of the next dead thing had an effect. He did some further research, meaning he went back to the diary and Bellatrix's opinion on torture.

  
  


The next peac- ... _thing_ he took down to the dungeons, Draco was more careful with. He tried not to give it the full blast right away. He apportioned the pain between the attacks, he _delayed it_ , as Bellatrix had written, as if it gave him pleasure. And after the last strike he managed to stay calm.

He breathed, in and out, he closed his eyes, and then he went over to look at his work.

The thing was looking up at him, apparently breathing, blinking and moving its eyes, but without focus, not able to get up, not able to move with any sort of coordination: alive, but not _here_.

He felt relieved and it disgusted him.

There was no time for congratulations, though. The hard part was yet to come.

  
  


"Draco?"

Draco was in his bedroom, reading the letter from Longbottom. It was kind and funny, and there were the ingredients for the anti-Flobberworm potion.

Oh, he'd loved to visit him, but he felt he couldn't face him like that, because he feared that Longbottom would see right through him and be repulsed by what he was doing day and night.

Oh, and rightly.

"Draco, dear?"

He jumped and turned towards the door. His mother rarely came to his room.

Draco hid the letter and stood.

"Yes, Mother? Do come in."

She slowly opened the door – and Draco was surprised to see that she wasn't alone. There was a small man with her, wearing a grey suit and carrying a black leather bag in one hand.

"Draco, I've owled for Healer Hepius to see if he can tell what is the matter with you."

The man held out a hand towards him in an attempt to introduce himself, but Draco couldn't listen. He felt betrayed, betrayed by his own mother, and rage was swelling in his stomach.

"What's the matter with me?", he screamed before he could stop himself. "I don't need anyone to tell me what's the matter with me!"

He grabbed his wand, which was lying on his desk, and flung a hex towards the Healer.

"Draco!" His mother sounded devastated.

"Leave!", he shouted at both of them. "Leave me alone!"

The Healer wasn't told twice and fled in a hurry. His mother glared at him, but then she hurried after the man, probably to prevent the worst.

Draco tore his hair. He kicked his chair, hurt his toe in doing so and, on his way to the en-suite, smashed his head against the mirror.

His forehead pressed to the cool glass, he stared at his reflection with loathing, his grey eyes staring back.

Yes, he looked sick. Yes, he looked like something was very wrong with him, but he wouldn't stop just because he was losing his good looks.

His reflection snorted at him.

People said that the crippling of one's soul would show on the outside. Draco was sure it was true. He had been since he'd seen Voldemort. Was he going to look like him in the end? He would have to kill himself.

His reflection burst into a fit of laughter and he resisted the urge to smash it into pieces.

Instead he went back to work. Because that's what he called it now.

  
  


He was switching from his experiments to brewing potions as a distraction, to stealing peacocks at night and releasing the ruined ones to aimlessly stagger around the gardens; from nightmares to dreams about Longbottom until he barely remembered his smile.

He sent Tessy to him with the new potions and especially the one against the Flobberworms, not daring to face him in person.

Not until he would come with good news.

  
  


"Tessy found the missing peacock, Mistress. It's dead, but it's been dead for at least a week unfortunately. Else Tessy could have cooked it for dinner. Tessy is very sorry."

  
  


He was broken. He couldn't deny it. A shadow.

But he was getting close.

When the flash of red light broke this evening and he lowered his wand, barely trembling anymore, it took only a few seconds until there was the redeeming cry and Draco fell to his knees.

He started to sob, this time of joy.

He had to go see Longbottom. He had to tell him.

 _Now_!


	7. Body and Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your interest in my story! I really appreciate it and would love to hear what you think in the comments <3

Draco was shaking with excitement, squinting against the sunlight with oversensitive eyes. He was feeling dizzy after Apparating and had to steady himself on the wall of the barber shop, but he didn't want to waste any more time.

He had thrown on a cloak over his black suit and hadn't bothered to change his shirt or straighten his hair or even to tell his mother that he was leaving the house.

He was sick with nervousness when he entered Longbottom's shop.

Longbottom was cleaning the shelves with a flying feather duster, humming to himself.

"Longbottom." Draco smiled at the sight of the other man, or at least he tried to, his muscles not used to this gesture anymore.

Longbottom turned to look at him – and where Draco had expected at least a hint of joy to see him after those long weeks, there was a worried look of confusion.

Draco didn't let himself be stopped by that. He became only more eager to explain.

"Longbottom, I've got it! I've made it!" The joy and relief bubbling to the surface, he approached the other with wide arms and was irritated as Longbottom took a step back.

"What...?"

Draco didn't listen. "Longbottom, you have to come with me. Immediately! I'll show you, so let's get – "

"Malfoy, what's _happening_?", he got interrupted harshly.

Draco snapped out of it and took a moment to look at the other man.

Longbottom was staring back with knitted brows.

"Oh. Excuse me, I... I haven't slept that much and..." He rubbed his face. "But that doesn't matter. I have to show you something, something very important", he said, fixing Longbottom with his gaze, "I can't tell you here, but you will understand if you come with me."

"Where – where am I supposed to come with you?", Longbottom asked and that was some progress at least.

"To Malfoy Manor. It's all prepared. You just have to – "

"To your house? Why?", Longbottom frowned.

Draco sighed heavily. He was threatening to lose his patience. It wasn't easy to reason with Longbottom about this with practically no sleep and an empty, queasy stomach.

"I can't tell you, okay? If the Ministry – You would misunderstand. I have to _show_ you."

Longbottom took another step back – apparently, he had taken one towards the other one.

"The Ministry? Why would you – What have you been up to?", Longbottom asked and he sounded alarmed.

This was enough. This hurt.

"What's your problem, Longbottom?", Draco snapped.

"I don't know", Longbottom answered adopting a clearly defensive posture. "Maybe I just want to know what I get myself into before coming to your – Ginny said I should be – "

" _Oh_!", Draco interrupted him, ignoring the pain in his chest. "So it's your stupid, insufferable Gryffindor friends telling you to be more careful around me! After all this – our...our business, you still don't trust me?" He flung his arms to both sides. "What else do I have to do? Tell me!"

Longbottom stared at him, his mouth forming words, but no sound coming from it.

Draco pulled himself together, he tried to at least, taking a few breaths through his nose.

Then he drew his wand and it hurt to see Longbottom cringe and draw his own. It hurt so much it threw Draco off balance for a second before carrying on his action.

With one swift movement, he locked the door and shut the blinds, then he aimed for the lights to turn them on. With his arms spread and his wand cast downwards he stood in front of Longbottom who looked at him as if he would have to counter a curse flung at him any moment.

Draco swallowed down that foolish, bitter feeling. "Go on then", he said challengingly. "I will refrain from closing my mind against your intrusion and open myself to you. You can do whatever you want to me, you can see it all, I shall not hinder you, and maybe then...you learn to _trust_ me, Longbottom."

Longbottom was apparently speechless, staring at him, his wand still clutched in his left hand.

Draco took a reassuring breath, preparing himself for the intrusion.

But it didn't come.

Instead, Longbottom cleared his throat.

"E-er, I'm sorry, but I...I can't... I haven't learned h-how to..."

Draco lost it. " _Arrgh_!" He couldn't believe it! He'd come this far and then – Tearing his hair he shouted at Longbottom. "You stupid, useless...!"

He didn't finish the insult, just pressed his hands tight to his head, grasping the thought that would be his last help. It felt like the only logic thing to do, so he did it:

Draco threw his wand away so that it rolled over the floor and when it stopped in front of Longbottom's feet, he had already opened his cloak and untied his shoelaces. He kicked off his shoes, threw the cloak to the floor and unbuttoned his suit jacket, then opened his belt and trousers.

He heard Longbottom draw in a sharp breath and felt his heart race, his eyes sting. His cheeks felt hot, like they were burning even, but there were no tears to cool the heat. This was humiliating, but deep down Draco was convinced that he deserved it.

His fingers shook as they fumbled with his shirt buttons, so he simply tore his shirt over his head and didn't look up as he shoved his underpants down and took off his socks.

Only then, he looked up again to meet Longbottom's gaze, who was staring at him with open eyes and mouth, making no point in hiding how his eyes roamed over his body, and Draco nearly felt flattered, like he was proving a point, like he could do this, stand here, naked, at Longbottom's mercy but proudly holding his gaze – but then Longbottom's eyes fixed on his left forearm and he had to fight back the urge to hide it behind his back. He had promised him he could see it all and he wouldn't hinder him, so he stood still.

Drawing a shaky breath, Draco lowered his eyes to the floor. Suddenly he couldn't stand Longbottom's stare anymore.

He felt vulnerable, ashamed, he was shaking from the sudden lack of warm clothing and from this feeling within which made his chest clench in a terrible way until he thought he couldn't breathe.

"Draco."

It was his given name that broke an invisible spell and let the first tear fall from his lashes onto his burning cheek.

He heard the clattering of wood against wood, then Longbottom's footsteps and felt one soft, warm hand touch his shoulder.

" _Accio_ blanket."

The door to Longbottom's flat popped open and with both hands he caught a red blanket that he put around Draco, closing it at the front, wrapping him up in it until Draco's head fell forward and landed on Longbottom's shoulder.

Draco was vaguely aware that there were tears, sobs even, and strong arms holding him so he wouldn't sink to the floor.

"Draco... Merlin, what did you do?", Longbottom asked softly, his hands carefully stroking his back. "Common, let's get you upstairs. Let's make you some tea."

As if that always helped...

Draco tried to move, but his feet felt very cold and stiff. Longbottom must have noticed, because the next second he was grabbing him around the waist and threw him up over his shoulder, so Draco had to cling to his back.

"Don't struggle. I have you.", Longbottom reassured him, sounding out of breath, but Draco was too tired to notice anyway. That's why he barely protested, as Longbottom carried him up the stairs on slightly wobbly knees.

He was put on a small sofa and tucked tightly into the blanket.

"There.", Longbottom said, kneeling in front of him and squeezing his shoulders. "I'll fetch you some clothes, okay? Be right back."

Draco blinked and breathed and sobbed and shook. He was in Longbottom's flat, he was naked, he had done something stupid and his arm hurt and his ears were buzzing.

"Here. There's, er, also some pants. I tried to pick something that's not, er, particularly red o-or gold, so..." Longbottom put down the clothes next to him and gave him a shy look, one hand reaching up to brush Draco's wet cheek before he quickly turned away.

"I-I'll be in the kitchen making tea.", he said and was gone.

Draco nodded, drew in a shaky breath and wiped his eyes with the ball of his hand. When he looked at the pile of clothes, he noticed that his wand was lying on top of it. He took it into his right hand and...and felt safer.

"R-right.", he muttered, his voice cracking. He probably should get dressed before...

He slipped on the underpants and only then he, hesitantly, shrugged off the blanket.

Longbottom had brought him pyjama bottoms in grey tartan and a greyish blue T-shirt with _Don't tickle the sleepy Dragon_ written on it. The trousers barely stayed on his slim waist and the T-shirt probably made him look like a house-elf in a pillowcase, but it smelled like Longbottom.

He made sure that the other man wasn't coming back yet before sniffing at it properly. The smell soothed him, if he liked it or not. ...Well, he probably liked it very much, but didn't want to admit it.

Dressed, Draco pulled the blanket back over his shoulders – and only then realised that it was bearing the crest of Gryffindor.

He stiffened, but then he heard Longbottom coming back into the living room and favoured warmth and the possibility to hide his body over his Slytherin pride.

Longbottom put the teapot, two cups and a vial on the coffee table and sat down next to him, giving him a relieved smile.

"I see, you've stopped crying. Are you any better?"

Draco avoided his gaze and felt his cheeks redden in shame. He had cried. In front of Longbottom. He had been weak, he had let him see –

It made the tears come back all the more.

"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of.", Longbottom tried to calm him down and rubbed Draco's back, but there was a sob escaping his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Draco..."

It felt so good to hear him say his name that Draco didn't protest when Longbottom pulled him into a tight embrace until his face was buried in his neck and he could sob as loud as he wanted to. It was over, the terrible hours of pain, of failing, of pushing away his poor mother, of forcing his body and soul to do things he – Everything was over now, he didn't have to do this anymore, he'd succeeded, he finally was _worth_ something and just very...very _tired_.

"I'm tired.", he croaked.

"Yes. Yes, that's okay.", Longbottom whispered and patted his hair. "You look like it. And you look pale, paler than usual. Merlin, what did you do, Draco? Hm?"

"I...I can't..."

"It's okay.", Longbottom said. "Do you want to eat? I've got soup. Do you want a plate of soup, Draco, hm?"

"I don't know", he managed to say.

"Let's find out, okay?", Longbottom suggested and only then did Draco realise that he was clinging to the other man's wrist with his hand when Longbottom gently tried to peel off his fingers from it.

"S-sorry."

"Don't be.", Longbottom said and squeezed his cold hand with his warm fingers before getting up. "Help yourself to some tea if you like."

Draco did, using his wand to pour himself a cup. It felt unbearably good to feel that kind of untarnished magic leave his arm. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes, then Longbottom was already back.

He was carrying two steaming soup plates and Draco could feel his stomach rumble at the smell of pumpkin and nutmeg.

Longbottom chuckled. "Ah, there we have the answer. Tuck in then, eh?"

Draco took the plate with a sheepish smile. "Thank you.", he said and started to eat.

"Is it alright?", Longbottom wanted to know after none of them had spoken for a while and Draco had already emptied half his plate.

He nodded. It was delicious.

As he finally handed Longbottom the empty plate, the other man looked at him with raised eyebrows. "When was the last time you've eaten?", he asked.

Draco looked away. "Don't know."

"Okay, so... I would've given you another serving, but...maybe we shouldn't push too hard. Your stomach's been queasy for a while now, apparently."

"Y-yeah. Probably." Draco remembered the time when he had nearly thrown up in front of Longbottom.

"Let's have a look at this.", Longbottom suggested instead and suddenly reached for Draco's left arm.

Draco flinched, but Longbottom's grip around his hand was firm and there was nowhere to hide.

"Merlin...", Longbottom mumbled and Draco could see his eyes clouding. "Draco, who...who did this to you?" If Draco wasn't mistaken, he sounded angry.

Draco couldn't say anything, not even open his mouth.

Longbottom looked up at him and his eyes widened with realisation. "You?", he whispered.

Draco lowered his eyes, feeling the heat rise to his neck and cheeks. "T-there...there was this book... I-I had to use my blood to be able to read it."

"That's a bloody sick book."

Draco chocked on a laugh. "It is.", he croaked. "And this is..." He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist in Longbottom's hand. "I can't stand to look at it. It makes me...it makes... I want to get rid of it!", he spat, his eyes fixed on the scar of the Dark Mark, still visible under the new ones, with loathing.

"Draco, you have to stop this.", Longbottom said, so harshly that it made Draco wince. "Look at your arm...! You – your skin's far too soft and sensitive, you can't continue doing this, do you hear me?"

Draco's bottom lip was trembling. He was holding Longbottom's stern gaze and he was going to snarl: "Who are you to tell me what to do!" or "Why the hell do you care?", but he couldn't bring himself to do so.

He just sat there and let Longbottom take care of his arm: He opened the vial, told him that it would sting a bit now, and then dripped a sickly sweet-smelling thick juice onto his wounds and scars.

Draco hissed in pain, but Longbottom held his arm in place.

"It's from a new moon willow. It really helps, I promise.", he assured him and Draco kept still.

Then he let Longbottom bandage his forearm, which he did carefully and slowly, taking all the time he needed. Draco watched him with bleary eyes.

"So. That's done." Longbottom squeezed his knee. "Are you alright?"

Draco nodded, trying to stay focused.

Longbottom smiled. "Do you want to lie down? Get some sleep?"

"I don't...I don't think I should..."

"Yeah, you shouldn't Apparate anymore today."

Draco wanted to protest, but he was too tired.

"My mother...", he said, as Longbottom cleared the table. "She doesn't know that I'm here."

"You can send her an owl. I've got Ajax, he's from Hogwarts. Fast beast."

Draco hesitated too long, apparently, because then Longbottom was already fetching him quill and parchment.

  
  


_Dear Mother,_

  
  


_I've been visiting Neville Longbottom and now unfortunately find myself in no position to return tonight._

_I will be back tomorrow. Please don't worry._

  
  


_Love, Draco_

  
  


He rolled up the letter and handed it to Longbottom who sent it away with Ajax, a male snowy owl with irritating blue eyes.

"I think I'll go to bed too.", Longbottom then said and stretched, making the muscles in his arms flex and his T-shirt ride up just so much that Draco could get a glimpse of a toned belly and a trail of dark hair. "You can use the bathroom first if you like, while I get changed."

Draco closed his mouth. "Yes. Er..."

He was lugging the blanket along like a train on his way across the room.

  
  


When Longbottom was finished in the bathroom, Draco had already made himself comfortable on the sofa. Well, comfortable was an exaggeration, but when he put his feet onto the armrest on the other end, he was able to make it to a lying position. He just hoped Longbottom would give him a pillow or he'd have to Transfigure his pants into one.

"Oh." Longbottom had stopped in front of the coffee table in pyjama bottoms with a floral pattern and a scarlet T-shirt that made Draco squint his eyes.

"What?"

Longbottom pointed at the sofa. "I, er... I thought I was gonna sleep there."

Draco sat up, regarding Longbottom with a look of disbelief. "You? And how's that supposed to fit?"

"Er, well, I... You can't sleep here, you'll hurt your arm. It has to rest comfortably. You go take my bed."

Draco sighed. He was much too tired to argue. He was too tired to anything. "Alright, alright.", he said and stood up, taking the blanket and his wand with him. "But you can...I mean...isn't it big enough to...?" _share_ , he wanted to say, but what the hell was he _thinking_? Not thinking at all, probably.

Longbottom scratched his cheek. "Oh. Yeah. Why not."

 _Shit_.

He was going to share a bed with Longbottom.

  
  


  
  


Longbottom's bedroom was at the back of the flat, looking out over the fields behind the shop and towards the forest where you could see the path down to Hogwarts.

His bed was _really_ big enough and covered in white sheets. Draco had expected more colour, but then he noticed that the top sheet was missing and he was probably carrying it around his shoulders.

So he shrugged off the blanket and let Longbottom take it to put it over the duvet.

"You, er...choose a side. I don't have one.", he said, and so Draco walked over to the right side where he put his wand on the bedside table before slipping under the covers.

Longbottom followed suit, turning off the lights with a flick of his wand and making the mattress dip to his side slightly. Draco tried to stay on his back and not move.

"Alright?", he heard Longbottom ask softly and so he turned his head.

Longbottom was lying on his side, one long arm stretched out at the top of the bed, reaching Draco's pillow with his hand.

Draco nodded. "Alright.", he said. Thankfully the size of the bed made it easy to keep a decent distance between their bodies. Good.

He waited for the other one to say goodnight and turn around, but Longbottom was just staring at him, his face barely visible, his eyes reflecting the only light that came from the night sky outside.

"Do you think you can", he began suddenly, "you could tell me now what you've been up to?"

Draco clenched the blanket. "I..." He hesitated. "I'd like to, but I'm really not sure if I could without somebody else knowing..."

Longbottom raised one eyebrow, but then he sighed and shifted slightly, putting his right hand under his cheek. "So, would it be okay if I came to your house tomorrow so you can show me?"

Draco blinked and felt a flash of excitement heating his chest and face. "Yes.", he managed to say. "More than okay."

Longbottom nodded. "Good then." He licked his lips and Draco tried to ignore how drawn he felt to him. "I...I'm sorry.", he added, "For not trusting you earlier."

Draco took a deep breath in the hope to calm himself down. "It's okay. But I...I'm sorry that I..." He swallowed. "...brought you in this...this situation."

Longbottom smiled with one side of his mouth. "Ah, well, you're far worse, I bet." Draco could see how his gaze travelled over what still was visible of his clothes and then towards the blanket.

"Yeah. You're right.", he said and with a look down his front, he tucked at the blue T-shirt. "What's that even supposed to mean?"

"It's the Hogwarts motto.", Longbottom said.

"Not quite", he mumbled, "The motto would translate into: the _sleeping_ dragon."

Longbottom chuckled. "Well, the T-shirt's from Luna. It was a present. When I pointed it out to her, she said that it sounded much cuter like that."

Draco wanted to snort, but the mentioning of Lovegood stopped him. "I'm not...I'm not ruining anything there for you again, am I?", he asked carefully.

Longbottom sighed, but his smile didn't leave his lips. "No, you're not. I can assure you. Like I've tried to tell you: we're just friends."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He didn't want to think about it and it wasn't his business, but he felt just like how much he _needed_ to know. "Didn't stop you from, how did she put it? _Popping in_ at hers that night...?"

Longbottom looked caught. Aha. "I...I needed someone to talk to, alright? Luna's a wonderful listener, best you can imagine."

Draco opened his mouth, but Longbottom already held up a finger to silence him. "And the other time, it was Harry's birthday. Ginny wanted to buy him flowers, but I insisted on giving them to her as a present to him." He furrowed his brow. "Why do you even care?"

Draco snapped his mouth shut. That was a good question. Why did he?

He searched for something to say.

"So Potter likes lilies. Of course."

Longbottom looked irritated, then he chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment before looking at him again and asking: "What flowers do you like?"

Draco hesitated, then he smiled and said very quietly: "Have a guess."

Longbottom fumbled with his pillow. "Er...probably not the right guess but the most obvious: narcissus?"

Draco shook his head and closed his eyes. "No. Not the right guess."

"Aww, well..." Longbottom sounded disappointed that he hadn't got it right. "Poppies?"

"No."

"The...Queen of the Night."

"What's that?"

"A black tulip."

"No."

"Damn! – Ah, it's no Muggle flower, is it?"

Draco hesitated. "Why shouldn't it be? Because I hate Muggles?"

"Er, I wasn't – "

"You were."

"So...is it? A Muggle flower, I mean."

Draco sighed and turned his head straight, looking up at the ceiling now if his eyes had been open, because his neck hurt. "It is."

"Oh."

Draco lay still and quiet for a while, and he could feel how he was drifting off to sleep slowly. He was barely there anymore when he could feel somebody softly stroking his hair.

"Do you know what Cymbalarias are?"

"Nh.", he made because he didn't.

" _Cymbalaria muralis_. It's like...like toadflax, just with ivy leaves and flowers like snapdragon. They grow inside walls where no one would suspect them. Maybe because they want to hide. But they're quite pretty actually. I think I like them better than peonies."

"Mh.", he made because he probably wasn't listening anymore and just wanted the soft voice to go on telling him goodnight stories.

  
  


  
  


He must have been fast asleep for a while now, when he heard a sound coming from downstairs that woke him. He didn't move, tried to listen what it was. That's when he heard it, the slithering up the marble stairs.

Draco held his breath. He tried to hear anything next to his hammering heartbeat.

There it was: a hiss. The movement of its long body. Merlin, it sounded as if –

Had he closed his door? Why could he hear its movements so loud and clear? Had he forgotten to close the – please, no! _No_!

He wanted to leap up, close it, but he didn't dare move, didn't dare leave his hiding place, didn't know if it wasn't already in the hall, didn't know if _he_ was with it, if it was hungry –

He was trembling, shaking violently, bit his tongue, but he was sure it was able to hear him, to smell him –

Suddenly someone was grabbing his arm and looked at him.

"I-It's here!", he hissed and held tight to the other person for dear life. "It's in the house!"

"What is?", the other one asked.

"H-his snake...!", he whimpered, being pretty sure they were being too loud, that it would come any second and –

"His sna- ? No, Draco, no, it's dead. The snake is dead. I've killed it."

For the first time Draco really looked at the other one, blinking up at his face and trying to see through the fog of sleep and fear. "Y-you've ki...?"

It was Neville Longbottom. The one that had beheaded it with the Sword of Gryffindor. Draco had been there. He'd seen it. He remembered.

Merlin, he was so relieved he started to cry.

"You've killed it!", he sobbed and hugged him, clung to him so tight it hurt in his fingers, but Longbottom didn't let go, just told him that everything was alright, and so Draco could go back to sleep, in his arms.


	8. Revelations I

When Draco woke up, he felt very strange. Because he felt very warm and safe and...good. Actually quite...wonderful.

Trying to get more of that warmth and softness, he shifted and stretched his legs – and suddenly there were feather light touches on his belly, on his sides, and he twitched underneath them until they grew into serious tickling.

"S-stop...!", he burst into giggles and blinked, just to realise that he was with Longbottom, in his bed, and all the memories from yesterday and tonight came rushing back.

"Stop!", he told him more firmly and tried to stop his hands, but Longbottom's were bigger and he managed to catch both of his wrists in one hand, holding him in place.

"Alright, alright, I stop.", he grinned broadly.

Draco gasped for air. "What're you... What do you think you're doing, Longbottom?", he asked him.

Longbottom pulled up one corner of his mouth. "Tickling the sleepy dragon."

Draco sighed exasperatedly. "It says: _don't_ tickle the dragon."

"Yeah", Longbottom said, looking very smug. "But people keep telling me I'm very brave."

He snorted. Tried to wiggle free of Longbottom's grip, but he didn't let him. He only looked at Draco with those big, mud-green eyes, his smile amused or...or even...he didn't dare to think...fond?

No, surely not fond. Draco wondered what he was going to do with him now. Would he laugh at him? For being so weak again? For throwing himself at him like a stupid schoolgirl because of a bloody snake that didn't even exist anymore but in his dreams? Would he tell him how disgusted he was of him for being so clingy and obviously enjoying his touches and hugs?

"You know", Longbottom finally spoke again. "You can be quite cute when you don't bite all the time."

Draco blinked and couldn't believe that this made him blush. "Sod off!", he snapped immediately and snatched his hands free.

"Ah, you're recovering. Good.", Longbottom laughed softly.

Draco didn't dare look at him and rubbed his skin where Longbottom had seized his wrists and now red imprints of his strong fingers were adorning his pale skin.

He suddenly felt very aware of the other man's body right next to his, the warmth he was radiating and the way his scarlet T-shirt clung to his upper arms and chest.

This was _Longbottom_ , for Merlin's sake! Longbottom, who's arse he'd hexed a million times at school and on whose account he'd made the best jokes, right behind Potter's.

"Hey", this very Longbottom said and Draco _flinched_ as he brushed one silver-blond strand of hair from his forehead. "What're you thinking?"

Draco swallowed. He didn't look up and decided to tell half the truth: "About...about how I used to bully you in the past."

Longbottom remained silent for a moment and his hand slid down Draco's shoulder to rest on the mattress next to Draco's chest, against which he could feel the light touch of two fingers through the T-shirt.

"I've been thinking about that too, lately.", Longbottom finally said, and the lack of smile in his voice made Draco look up at him at last.

He met searching eyes and forced himself not to look away again when he asked with a pathetic voice: "And what have you come up with? Any plans for revenge?"

Longbottom shrugged and looked as if he couldn't care less, but Draco saw a certain spark in his eyes that slightly scared him.

"I suppose so.", he answered carefully. "I was thinking about it, actually."

Draco's eyes widened. Merlin, how could he have thought – ?

"I could've had it on several occasions by now.", he said, fixing Draco with his eyes. "Even tonight. I could have it now, you know?"

Draco swallowed and was thinking hard of a way to reach for his wand without –

He winced as Longbottom stopped him immediately, grabbing his wrists before he could've done anything.

"You know what?", he said quietly and smiled at Draco. "Maybe I will."

And with that he leaned over and – a-and pressed his lips against Draco's.

Draco was dying. He died of shame and heat in a blaze of kisses that he shared with no other than Neville Longbottom, who made him pant and whimper and _enjoy_ this like he definitely shouldn't.

He enjoyed the hard grip on his wrists, the almost shy movement of soft lips against his own, to press his hands against the firm chest, to taste the other man's mouth, to feel his stubble, hear him moan, _make_ him moan with a flick of his own tongue.

He enjoyed the hands in his hair, the kisses and sucks on his neck, he wished for them never to stop and the thought that they surely left behind marks turned him on, _oh Merlin_...!

"Draco", he heard Longbottom pant as he pushed a hand underneath the blue T-shirt to press his long fingers into the skin at his belly, and he shuddered under his touch.

"Draco..."

"Yes", he whimpered, "yes..."

Sweet Salazar, he couldn't believe this was real. He couldn't believe how wonderful that felt, how much he wanted this, needed this, needed more...!

Before he could stop himself he was rolling his hips against Longbottom's and as Longbottom was rocking back against him, he threw his head back.

"Merlin, you're so hot.", Longbottom whispered and pushed himself on top of him, catching his lips in a hungry kiss.

Draco complied, opening his mouth and legs for him, oh and with pleasure.

In a fumbling of hands and clothes and covers they managed to push down their trousers and pants, and Draco heard a humiliating sound leave his throat the second Longbottom's hand closed around his erection.

Merlin, he was so hard, this was pathetic...this was...

Longbottom was jerking him off and he was holding onto him for dear life.

"Damn, D-Draco...you look so good when you're like this. You look so – Merlin, what do you do to me...?"

Draco wanted to feel what he did to him, so he crossed his legs behind Longbottom's back and pushed him down onto him, making them both moan.

He was hard too, Draco could feel it, feel the wet tip with his hand as he closed his fingers around it and – Merlin, Longbottom was...he was big. And he was kissing him like mad, rutting their hips together until he gently pushed Draco's hand away and closed his own around them both.

"Oh, f-ah...!" He sounded nothing but desperate, desperate to surrender to Longbottom who looked at him as if he was his sole centre of attention.

Draco loved attention. He loved Longbottom's hands, his groans, his teeth at his throat.

He loved it so much he came only a few seconds later, crying out in pleasure and not coming down from it until Longbottom orgasmed with a delicious moan after a few frantic thrusts.

  
  


Draco was breathing hard, trying to catch his breath, his hair tousled, the T-shirt damp and his belly sticky with cum, probably not only his own.

Longbottom was leaning over him and fixing him with a look that made him shudder.

"There you have it.", he croaked.

Longbottom frowned. "What?" His voice sounded higher than usual.

Draco cleared his throat. "Your revenge.", he then said and tried to keep the arising bitterness out of his voice. "Now you can go and tell your Gryffindor friends that you had me. And that I enjoyed every bit of it."

Longbottom blinked at him and then he – blushed? Merlin, he went as red as his stupid T-shirt.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?", he then scolded him and pinched his belly what made Draco squeal. "I didn't do this to take revenge. I did this because I _like_ you!"

Draco blinked up at him and felt his chest tingle with a strange warmth. "Because you...you like me?", he repeated, unable to cope.

"Yes", Longbottom beamed at him. "I like you, Draco."

Draco closed his eyes and could feel how his lips spread into a wide smile.

As he felt Longbottom's lips softly press against his, he opened them and coaxed the other one's tongue to come inside, which wasn't a difficult task as Longbottom was very eager to kiss him thoroughly.

"Is that a surprise?", he whispered between kisses.

"What? That you like me?"

"Yeah."

"Yes. People usually don't like me.", Draco whispered, not wanting to stop nibbling Longbottom's lips. "They usually hate me."

"How could I possibly hate you?", Longbottom asked, his fingers brushing over Draco's arms with soft, caressing touches meanwhile his eyes flicked over Draco's face. "I just realised, recently", he began quietly, "that despite all the bad things that happened, I can look back and there is nothing I regret. Not one single thing. And even though people I liked and cared about died...there are a lot more of them still alive and...and we're still very good friends."

Draco flinched as Longbottom's eyes met his that second, and he looked away, feeling the warmth slowly leave his body and instead spread into the sheets around him.

Longbottom was still looking at him.

"I think you've got neither of those two reassuring thoughts."

Draco bit his lip. He couldn't believe this. "So it's pity.", he said and could hear that he sounded positively bitter. "You do this because you pity me." It sounded even crueler when he said it out loud.

Longbottom snorted and he could feel how his caressing fingers wrapped around his elbows and held tight.

"How could this possibly be pity?", he asked and when Draco finally looked up to glare at him, Longbottom was still looking at him and made Draco's hate falter.

Yes, he thought, searching those big mud-green eyes for an answer. How?

Longbottom smiled. "We need to have a shower."

Draco didn't move.

"Common."

Did he need proof for Longbottom's reasons? Did he _want_ proof?

"Oh, you lazy bugger."

Draco snapped out of his thoughts when two strong arms snuck under his back and legs and he was pulled up from the mattress against Longbottom's chest.

"H-hey!", he shouted in surprise and tried to break free from the grip while he was carried towards the bedroom door.

"Stop it!", Longbottom chuckled. "First you're not moving, now you're struggling."

"Let me down!", he protested, as Longbottom stumbled into the hall with him. "I'm almost naked!"

"Oh, and that's not decent for a Malfoy prince, yeah?"

Draco huffed. He didn't like to be called a prince. No, he definitely didn't. "Don't call me that!", he said, sounding amused, what was _not_ what he'd been amining for. "Let me down!" He kicked his legs and slipped out of Longbottom's grip so his feet were on the floor, but the other man hugged him from behind and started to tickle him again.

"You stop that!", he wailed, "Now!" He tried to tickle back, but his hands were beaten away, and when he was already laughing so hard he had tears rolling down his cheeks, Longbottom stopped, holding him tight as they were both leaning against the bathroom door for support, his chin on Draco's shoulder, and whispered: "I like you, Draco. And you can't do anything against it."

Draco leaned back into the embrace and Longbottom's lips on his ear and took a shaky breath.

Then he couldn't help but smile.

"I suppose not."

Longbottom chuckled and opened the door. "Common, then, we're really sticky. Wanna get rid of that."

"I could've done that in two seconds with a cleaning spell if you'd let me.", Draco said, gaining back some of his confidence.

"Show-off.", Longbottom muttered, already pulling his pyjama bottoms and pants down completely. "I don't like that kind of magic in bed.", he said, and Draco couldn't take his eyes from him as he continued with his T-shirt, which he threw to the bathroom floor just as well. "It's totally unromantic."

With a lot of effort, Draco managed to avert his gaze from Longbottom's ridiculously perfect body and scoffed: "Oh, so you're a romantic. I must have failed to notice, sorry."

A bit sheepishly, he tucked at the blue sleepy-dragon-T-shirt, but felt very conscious of his own skinny, pale body.

He hesitated, maybe a bit too long to not let it show that he was feeling insecure, because then he realised that Longbottom wasn't saying anything and didn't move.

When Draco turned slightly to look at him, he was staring at him with...guilt?

"Draco, I...I'm s-so sorry.", Longbottom stammered and suddenly sounded like the clumsy schoolboy he'd known.

Draco blinked in cofusion.

"I-I didn't want to...to push you. – A-and I promise, I was really thinking about inviting you to dinner when I woke up next to you, b-but then you were – you – you're just too tempting...!"

Draco blinked again, because now he understood, but he couldn't believe it.

He chuckled softly and crossed the small distance between them to take Longbottom's hands. "That's really cute.", he said, "But I only said it to tease you, you stupid idiot."

He grinned when he could see how Longbottom turned red at that realisation. To soften his embarrassment he added: "We can still have that dinner next time, don't you think?"

"Y-yeah. Yes." Longbottom nodded, then he chuckled and hid his face in his hand. "Good Godric..."

"Don't, I like romantics.", Draco admitted truthfully and wrapped his arms around Longbottom's shoulders when he leaned in to give him a sweet kiss.

He could feel how the other one relaxed gradually, and when Longbottom's hands started to stroke his back and finally pulled the blue T-shirt up, Draco didn't protest.

He let Longbottom strip him, slowly and between tender kisses, the T-shirt, the pants and even the bandages on his left forearm, and it was okay that he looked at him and saw everything. Draco didn't hinder him. Just like last time.

"You're so beautiful..."

Draco felt the air catch in his throat and managed to snort only two seconds too late and push Longbottom into the bathtub.

"Sod off, you bloody idiot, I thought we were going to have a shower!"

  
  


The tub was not nearly as spacious as his bathtub at home, and the products Longbottom used...well, let's say, Draco could be happy if his hair didn't fall out and his skin didn't turn green with Dragon Pox.

He did like the fact that Longbottom insisted on rubbing his back with soap, though, and how the lather ran down his tanned, toned torso...

But that didn't make up for the fact that he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror now, wrapped in a towel, and had to go without his skincare and hair products.

"I'm off preparing breakfast.", Longbottom scarpered with a kiss pressed to Draco's neck, so he was already gone as Draco discovered the red marks, _three of them_ , plastered all over his neck.

"You bloody...!" His face flushed and he touched one of them with a trembling fingertip, remembering Longbottom's hungry kisses and bites.

He exhaled shakily and tried to convince himself that he did _not!_ like this.

  
  


When he left the bathroom in search for some clothes, his black cloak and suit were already waiting for him, folded, on the bed. So he dressed, but didn't dare dry his hair with a spell without having taken care of it first. It was a warm day after all. But if he got sick, he'd sue Longbottom anyway.

"Ah, there you are. Everything's ready.", Longbottom shouted from the kitchen, as Draco arrived in the living room, and when he peered around the corner, Longbottom had already set the small table with tea and two bowls with berries, yoghurt and oat flakes.

"I, er...hope that's alright with you?", he asked, fumbling with his hands in a clumsy and really cute manner.

"Yes. Yes, of course." Draco smiled and they sat down. "I just... Somehow I thought you'd be one for a full English breakfast."

"Ah, I, er...yes.", Longbottom chuckled and rubbed his neck, "I really am, but I'm always so full afterwards that I'm not good for anything. When I have to work, I really can't do that."

"And you have to work today?", Draco asked before having a sip from his tea.

"Er, yeah. Not in the shop, but in the greenhouses." Longbottom smiled. "I haven't forgotten my visit at Malfoy Manor, though. Just tell me when I should be there."

"Mh", Draco made because he just had had a spoon full of the cereal. "That's delicious.", he said. "With freshly picked berries, I suppose?"

Longbottom nodded with a bright smile. "Freshly picked. Just yesterday. I'm glad you like it."

Draco gestured that he did very much, because he had just taken another spoon full.

"I'm not exactly fond of a full English breakfast myself.", he finally managed to say, "Usually I only have scrambled eggs and toast. I can't bring myself to eat so much this early in the morning."

Longbottom gave him a look of concern he couldn't stand right now, so he quickly changed the subject: "So you have to work for Professor Sprout today or is it for your shop?", he asked and took another sip from his tea.

"Oh, it's for Professor Sprout. Getting things ready for next term."

Draco tried to remember his lessons in the greenhouses of Hogwarts and as he did, he was surprised that he still could. In fact, there were a few distinct memories, of plants, of topics, of situations and even mishaps. Everything felt very childish, but...good, in some way.

When he realised that he still owed Longbottom an answer, he noticed that the other one was just smiling patiently at him.

"Ah, er...since when do you work for her?", he asked.

"I helped with the rebuilding right after the War. That's when she asked me if I wanted to become her trainee. Well, I told her about my dream to open a shop, and so we came up with this idea. As a compromise."

"A compromise?"

Longbottom rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Yeah. Of course she wanted me to teach as well, you know? Still tries it, these days, when she claims that I have to assist her for a lesson 'cause the plants are too hard to handle alone around the first years. As if."

Draco grinned. "So she wants you as her successor?"

Longbottom shrugged. "Yeah."

Draco blinked. "But?"

"Don't know. I don't feel like I'm...particularly good with children?"

"Oh, you think so?", Draco grinned. "Just threaten them with detention or beatings. That should help."

Longbottom rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you apply then?", he then asked and sounded even serious.

" _What_?"

"Yeah, I mean, Slughorn should've retired a long time ago. I bet he's only doing Professor McGonagall a favour."

Draco snorted. He tried hard not to let his smile falter. "People don't trust me with brewing them potions to clean their shoes with, Longbottom. Why would they trust me with their children?"

It was Longbottom's smile that faltered. "Draco, that can't be..." He trailed off.

"It is.", Draco sighed. "This summer, Mother invited several witches and wizards to her dinner party. The second time since the end of the War. I told her, let it be, the first time was humiliating enough for her, but she wouldn't listen, she said: things have changed now, Draco." He shrugged. "Again, not a single one of them came. Not a _single one_ of them. And just like last time, almost everyone didn't even bother answer to decline her invitation."

To Draco's surpsirse, Longbottom didn't look impressed. He flicked his finger at a berry that had fallen from his spoon onto the table. "Maybe she wasn't inviting the right people then.", he said and looked at him.

Draco averted his gaze and just snorted.

"I've sold your potions, you know that.", Longbottom reminded him.

"Yes, I do.", Draco replied. "Actually, I wanted to ask you: Did anyone know that I've made them?"

Now it was Longbottom who averted his gaze and blushed.

Draco scoffed: "You see! Even you think that – "

"Yeah, that people are stupidly prejudiced against many things, but!", Longbottom insisted, "I told them when they came back and asked for a second potion."

Draco's eyes widened. "What?"

"Yes, I told them that you'd made them and I saw they were hesitant, but then I asked them if the reason they were here, asking for that potion again, wasn't 'cause they'd been very satisfied with the first one. And, you know, only one of them went away without buying one again, this time knowing very well who'd made that potion."

"Well..." Draco had to admit that he was slightly impressed. "B-but you see: Some people still care more about – "

"Draco, that was one out of ten!"

Draco sighed and went back to his food. "Let's leave it at that."

Longbottom hesitated. "Alright", he agreed then. "When you've finished eating, I'd like to take care of your arm before you go."

  
  


After breakfast Draco had to sit down on the sofa again where Longbottom had already taken care of his physical and emotional mess yesterday evening. The willow juice was stinging again, but Draco clearly could see how the swelling around each cut was disappearing slightly and his skin was healing.

"Thank you", he murmured, after Longbottom had wrapped his arm in a new bandage.

"No problem."

"For the food too.", Draco insisted. "And for..." _everything else_ , he nearly said, but then sticked with: "...your trust."

Longbottom grinned and brushed a few strands of his by now dried hair behind his ear before leaning in for a soft kiss.

"When should I come today?", he asked then.

"Er, I...let's say at five o'clock?", Draco suggested. "So you can get your work done first."

"Yeah", Longbottom nodded, "Sounds good."

He saw him out, only to take him into his arms one more time at the door of the shop downstairs, kissing him goodbye.

"And give my regards to your mother."

"Oh, yes, I will.", Draco grinned. "She really loved the flowers last time."

Longbottom looked at him in surprise. "But they were for you!"

"Oh..." Draco didn't know what to say. He felt...loved.

"Tell me what your favourite flowers are", Longbottom demanded, "and I'll bring you a bunch of them."

Draco felt very flirtatious when he said: "Why don't you find out on your own what they are, Professor Herbologist?"

Longbottom chuckled. "You're right, yeah, I will."

"Good.", Draco smiled. "See you at five. I will fetch you at the gates."

"Alright, see you, Draco."

He left the shop, and this time he forgot to pull up his hood.

  
  


  
  


Draco Apparated in front of the wrought-iron gates and walked right through them and the magical barrier into the gardens. He was on the driveway leading to the stairs up to the main entrance of the Manor.

The drive was long and straight and he remembered the million times he'd been tempted to just ditch it, skip it, cross it, _ruin_ it.

The more he thought about it, the more his walk broke into a run, and not because he had to hurry or there was any danger, no: just because he _could_ and there was no one telling him off, no one telling him what was right. It _felt_ right.

So he ran, the gravel crunching and flying beneath his feet, in curves and loops until he took a leap over one of the smaller hedges to land between bushes and flowers and he brushed along their leaves with out-stretched fingers on his stroll through nature.

He liked him. Draco thought he liked him back. He was sure he did.

He was feeling light-hearted and unbearably good and it was only his duty to put a few things right so he deserved to indulge in it.


	9. Revelations II

"Tessy!", he yelled, not even sure himself anymore how close to the house he already was or wasn't. "Tessy, where are you?"

A crack told him that their house-elf had appeared somewhere near. "Tessy is here.", he heard her squeaky voice, "But where is Master Draco?"

"Here!" Draco laughed at the bewildered look on her face as he greeted her through one of the hedges.

"But what is Master Draco doing behind the hedge?"

"Looking for our peacocks.", he said and she followed him on the other side of the hedge while he walked on. "Can you help me with that?"

"Of course, Master Draco.", Tessy answered and it amused him how she still couldn't hide her confusion.

"There must be three of them who...seem a bit odd. Have you seen them?"

"Yes. Yes, Tessy has.", Tessy nodded, her small hands reaching for the branches of the hedge. "Tessy gave them food because Tessy realised they don't find anything on their own, but – " She hurried after him as she realised that he hadn't stopped. "But they barely eat."

She nearly run into him where the hedge finally ended and Draco was standing in front of a small mound of earth under one of the big trees on the very western end of their gardens.

"Have you...?"

"Mistress said Tessy was to get rid of the dead peacock, so Tessy buried the dead peacock here. Tessy thought it was the right thing to do."

Draco nodded slightly. "Thank you.", he said quietly before turning to their elf with a sterner look.

"I want you to find them, Tessy, and then bring all three of them and a fourth one that isn't harmed to my room in the dungeons. Understood?"

Tessy bowed, "Yes, Master Draco", and with a crack she was gone.

Draco hurried to see his mother.

  
  


He found her in the library where she was writing a letter and jumped to her feet as soon as she heard him entering.

"Draco!"

"Mother, I want to apologise!"

She quickly covered the parchment with an old notebook and barely managed to turn around again before Draco had reached her und hugged her.

It felt good. It felt right. She was his mother and he wasn't weak just because he liked to show her how much he loved her.

"Draco, my dear, where have you been?" She sounded concerned and didn't let go of his arms, even when he did.

"I thought – Didn't you get the owl?", he asked, noticing how her eyes searched his face for any hint that he might have gotten hurt.

Thank Merlin, he still wore his cloak which did a reasonable job hiding the love bites on his neck...

"I did, but... What's with your hair?", she interrupted herself in confusion and brushed her fingers through the loosely falling, wavy strands of silver-blond hair on his head.

"Er, I...had no haircare products when I showered this morning."

"Oh."

"I know it's bad.", he said.

"No, it's...just different. You look..." Her lips formed an amused smile. "...quite daring like that."

Draco snorted and enjoyed hearing his mother laugh. He enjoyed it so much, he just hugged her again and held very still, his cheek pressed to hers and his eyes shut.

"Mother, I'm different.", he then suddenly said and it surprised him too. "I'm different from the way you and Father wanted me to be, but I think I'm happy."

He heard his mother take a deep breath, then she tightened her grip around him and brushed her cheek against his.

"Oh, Draco, I never wanted you to be anything but happy."

He heard those words before he really understood them.

"Thank you, Mum.", he whispered when he did, and buried his face in her hair.

She stroked his back until he had calmed down enough to let go of her again.

His mother smiled and brushed her fingers through his hair. "Common, my dear.", she said, guiding him to the setee. "Sit down and tell me. I got the owl, but I was still worried. Why couldn't you come back yesterday?"

Draco cleared his throat as he sat down beside her. "I've been quite feverish and couldn't Apparate back, so Mr Longbottom allowed me to rest and stay till the morning."

"I've _told_ you, Draco.", his mother replied, immediately worried again, taking one of his hands and squeezing it. "But you wouldn't listen and...and frightened away the Healer in a manner I can't appr- "

"I'm sorry, Mother. I'm really sorry.", he said quickly and cupped her hand with his. "The way I treated you... I despise myself for that."

"My dear, no."

"Yes. But I haven't been myself lately. I...I've taken aunt Bellatrix's diary, against your advice." He could see how shocked his mother was, but it only showed how much she cared about him. "But I promise: I won't touch it again. In fact I...I want to spend more time with people than with books in the future."

He could see the relief on her face and a small smile coming back. She looked glad, but also curious, so he didn't hesitate any longer and went on: "Neville Longbottom will visit today. I hope that's alright with you."

His mother gave him a look of surprise. "Neville Longbottom? Well...yes. Will he lunch with us? O-or will he be here for dinner?"

"Er..." Draco was thinking about it. He hadn't asked. But he couldn't believe Longbottom would like to...

"Oh, forgive me." His mother lowered her gaze and he could see how her smile faded. "I forgot. So, er – Your business is going well, apparently?"

Draco hesitated. "This...isn't really a business meeting.", he then admitted.

The smile came back to his mother's face and she looked at him full of hope. "Oh, so you're friends?"

Draco couldn't help but grin. "Yes.", he said, squeezing her hand enthusiastically. "Yes, I shall think so, Mum."

  
  


  
  


Longbottom was late. When Draco arrived at the gates, called by Tessy, it was already 20 minutes past five.

Longbottom greeted him with a sheepish smile, dressed in shirt and trousers and a dark cloak. "Sorry, I know I'm late. Underestimated the dirt. Under my, uh...everything."

Draco had to laugh and found he couldn't be cross with him. Instead he tapped the gates with his wand so they opened for his...friend. "It's okay. You may come in."

"Thanks."

"We will be in my room in the dungeons.", Draco explained, as they were walking along the path towards the Manor. "It's my...lab. Where I have all the ingredients and brew my potions."

"Ah." Longbottom nodded.

Draco carefully glanced at him from the side. He didn't look very nervous or suspicious. Brave (or stupid) Gryffindor...

"Mother is probably still in the library, but I'm not sure if she will...er, come out to see you."

"Well, er...she lives here.", Longbottom chuckled. "It's her right to have a look at her guests."

"Yes, but you're _my_ guest and she..." Draco sighed. "All I wanted to say is that...I haven't told her about... She thinks we're friends."

"That's alright with me.", Longbottom immediately replied. "Not planning to tell my gran soon..." He put his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, then Draco cought his eyes and they both had to grin.

"So that's settled. Good."

"Yeah."

They didn't speak much for the last bit of their walk, also because now the hedges lining the path grew smaller and Longbottom was busy gushing about the garden: "It's so extensive!", "It's so beautiful!"

When they finally reached the house, the huge doors opened for them and they stepped into the entrance hall.

"It's down here.", Draco said, leading Longbottom, who was busy looking around again, to the door under the stairs that no one would notice if he didn't want them to.

He opened it, and because there, Longbottom hesitated for the first time, Draco gently took his hand.

He lead him down the narrow stairs into his room where the fireplace and the lights were still lit and one white peacock was strutting around, picking at the food Draco had left for him in a bowl.

"Wow, that's...It's nice.", Longbottom said with a surprised smile. "Comfy."

Draco grimaced. "It's nice that you say that, because this was the room Voldemort kept his prisoners."

"Oh." Longbottom stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked around again, as if to find any proof of what he had just said. Thank Merlin, there was not any left.

"But it's perfect for my purposes, especially when I'm not sure if my magic is tracked somehow by the Aurors.", Draco went on, rather to distract Longbottom from what he'd said, but then he realised how that sounded now...

"So you...?"

"No! No, I was just saying..." Draco sighed. He turned around and looked at Longbottom, down here between chaise longue and cauldron and peacock, and he was surprised at how very little out of place he looked.

"What?", he asked and Draco took his hands to guide him to the chaise longue and sit down with him.

"Do you remember the book I've told you about?", he decided to start from the beginning.

Longbottom furrowed his brow and nodded. "Yeah. The one you needed your blood to read it."

"Exactly.", Draco continued. "That's because it's the annales of the House of Black. A diary. And you have to prove that you're a Black to read or write in it."

The mud-green eyes darted over Draco's face with worry and Longbottom bit his lip. "But why would you...?"

"My aunt", Draco began carefully. "Bellatrix was the last one to own it before I got it a few weeks ago."

He could feel Longbottom's fingers stiffen around his hands. His whole body tensed. But he stayed still and kept quiet. For Draco's sake?

"I want to show you something I've found out, okay?", he said and gave Longbottom's hands a soft squeeze before he slowly got up. Very slowly, because he wanted Longbottom to be able to follow his every move.

He went over to where the peacock was prancing around his cauldron and shooed him over to the empty space in front of the chaise longue.

"Why is it white?", Longbottom asked.

"Albino peacocks. Father was really fond of them.", Draco explained, but didn't really pay attention to what he was saying, because he could feel how he was getting nervous. Not that he would mess things up, but that Longbottom would hate him afterwards.

He forced himself to stay calm and took out his wand, slowly approaching the peacock.

He threw Longbottom a quick glance. "Please don't panic, you'll understand at the end, I promise." Then he focused on the bird and rid himself of all sympathy for it.

" _Crucio_!"

The spell lasted two seconds then Longbottom jumped to his feet and tried to intervene.

Draco broke the spell and shot him a look. "Do you trust me?", he shouted over the screeching of the bird.

Longbottom hesitated, but then he swallowed. Nodded. And stayed where he was.

Draco caught the white thing with another curse before it could get away.

It was difficult for him, he had to free himself from the thought that Longbottom was watching. He really had to want to inflict pain, and, damn yes, he wanted to, he wanted this to work, he wanted to hear the screams and then hear them stop.

It was five seconds after that when he tore away his wand and closed his eyes to take a few calming breaths.

Only then he was ready to look at Longbottom. He looked horrified. That's exactly what Draco had expected, but it still hurt.

"What...?", he finally managed to say, his voice higher than usual. "What have you done to it?"

Draco gestured with his wand to the bird. "Have a look for yourself."

Longbottom shot him an indefinable look before slowly stepping closer to the bird that was still lying on its back, feathers and feet twitching.

"It's not dead.", Longbottom detected correctly, his voice high with panic. "It's..."

"Yes.", Draco just said. "It's her Crucio. It took a while to learn, but I've mastered it in the end, as she wrote it down in sickening detail. Now step back so I can show you why you're here and why I tormented myself with that bloody book and this sick curse this whole time! _Crucio_!"

The red light shot out of his wand again and the bird began to thrash about until seconds later, it started to screech again, its wings fluttered, and then, two seconds after he had broken the spell with a gasp, the bird sprung to its feet and ran away.

This time, when Draco looked at Longbottom, he looked like he'd been Stupefyed. When he slowly raised a trembling hand to cup his mouth, Draco was sure he had understood.

"Tessy!", Draco called their house-elf. "Take that bird to our garden. Don't harm it."

"Yes, Master Draco, Tessy will do her best to catch it gently..."

Then he put away his wand and carefully approached Longbottom. Leaving him some safe distance, he folded his arms behind his back. "Well, what...what do you say?", he wanted to know as Tessy and the bird disappeared with a crack.

"I don't" Longbottom had to clear his throat. "I don't know, it's..." He blinked and Draco was so glad he finally was able to look at him. "How did you...?"

"The inventor of that curse was Uthric Black and the first owner of that book. He taught me everything I had to know about the nature of the spell, its composition and... Well, and as you actually attack or deform human organs with it, I thought it worth a try to have a look if I couldn't deform them back. So I...I found out what spell she'd used to... It's always been the same since 1975. I know how to do it now. And I also know how to do it backwards."

Longbottom shook his head and only then did Draco realise that there were tears in his eyes.

"I thought", he whispered, "I thought I've tried everything and there's...there's nothing to be done..."

Draco wanted to look reasuring when he said: "Maybe there is."

Longbottom fixed him with his eyes.

Draco came one careful step closer. "Do you...do you want me to try?"

He was relieved when Longbottom took his hand. "Can I...can I think about it?", he asked.

Draco couldn't feel disappointed. This was more than what he'd hoped. "Of course.", he nodded and gasped as Longbottom suddenly hugged him.

He was holding him so tight it nearly hurt, and Draco noticed that his voice was shaking when he said: "Thank you. You...you're doing that for me a-and I...I've been such an idiot yesterday, I'm so sorry..."

Draco smiled and stroked Longbottom's back. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

He wanted to kiss his friend and tell him that everything was alright, that everything was going to be alright, but he didn't dare, because now he knew and maybe...

Draco closed his eyes when Longbottom leaned down for a gentle kiss. Immediately, he cupped his friend's face with his hands as he kissed him back. He wanted to show him how much he cared about him, how much he liked him, how important he was to him.

When they parted again, Longbottom was finally smiling. "You're crazy, Draco...absolutely crazy. Why do you do this?"

Draco grinned half-heartedly. "I feel like it's my responsibility to try and make good where my family wronged."

"But it's not your responsibility.", Longbottom replied quietly and gently stroked his cheek with his thumb.

Draco smiled. "I know. But I said I feel like it is."

Longbottom nodded. "I...I will tell you when I've thought about it. I really appreciate it, Draco."

"Yes, that's okay." Draco hesitated, but he was sure Longbottom needed some time alone now. "I can show you to the gates."

"Oh. Yeah. That'd be good."

Draco put out the lights when leaving the room and led Longbottom to the entrance door until they were on that path again.

"Oh, I totally forgot to ask", his friend said suddenly, "How's your arm?"

Draco smiled. "Quite good, actually. Thank you."

"I, er...I could bring you some of the juice or – " Longbottom stopped, then, with a bright smile, he asked: "Or why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow? I still owe you one." He winked and Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes, I'd love to.", he accepted immediately. "When should I be there?"

"Let's say at seven?"

Draco nodded as he escorted his friend through the gates. "Perfect."

"Well, then..." Longbottom had a quick look around, then he actually leaned down and gave Draco a long, sweet kiss. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"Me neither."

And he couldn't. He was feeling so giddy he jumped over hedges again on his way back, and instead of going to sleep after dinner, he took out his broom and nearly bumped into his mother on his way down the stairs, taking three steps at once.

"You're going to fly?", she asked in surprise.

"Yes, I am.", he grinned and could hear how she followed him into the garden.

"But Draco, you...you haven't done that for – "

"You never forget how to fly, Mum!", he shouted before taking off into the air with full speed.

It was marvellous. Wonderful. He could see how his mother, the house and the gardens became so very small and how the sun was setting behind the nearby forest; he could feel his stomach tingle when he shot down again and hear his mother laugh when he rushed past her, making her hair and dress fly.

After the War he'd sworn to himself to never ever become dependant on anyone again, to never ever give someone so much power over his own life. But this was different. This was good. Because for the first time, it had been his own choice.


	10. Lilac and Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience and your feedback! :D  
> I really appreciate it!
> 
> Enjoy the next chapter ;) ...

Draco had always spent a lot of time in front of the mirror. That had changed when he had noticed, at one point, that he couldn't look himself in the eye anymore.

Today he was falling back into old habits, since he had been checking out what outfit to wear for nearly an hour now.

The one he finally settled with consisted of a pair of black trousers and the green silk shirt he very much liked and considered appropriate as a reprisal for the Gryffindor blanket.

While putting on his cloak, Draco decided that he wouldn't think about Longbottom's hesitant reaction anymore. He had gone through this a million times and wasn't doing it again: Longbottom's parents had been like this since he had been a baby and Draco knew that he just needed time to think about what it would mean if that changed suddenly.

Still, he couldn't rid himself of the thought that his friend didn't trust him enough. But he understood: it was something totally different if someone did this to peacocks or to your parents. He himself wasn't even absolutely sure if it would work just as well as with the birds, as he had studied the human anatomy but hadn't applied his knowledge yet...

So, it was decided that Draco wouldn't bring up that topic this evening. If Longbottom felt like asking questions, he would answer them truthfully, but he wouldn't start with this topic on his own accord.

  
  


Draco Apparated in Hogsmeade and went to knock on Longbottom's door. _He_ was punctual.

After a few seconds the door to the shop flew open and Longbottom's voice was coming from the stairs to his flat: "Common in! Have to guard the food!"

Draco chuckled and made his way up the stairs into Longbottom's flat where he took off his shoes and cloak in the hall before going to the kitchen where the mouth-watering smell was already coming from.

There were several things going on, but it seemed that Longbottom had everything under control when he finally turned around to Draco in blue jeans and a checked shirt. With short sleeves, fortunately, but for once his biceps weren't the reason why Draco's chest and face heated up.

It was the small table, decorated with a red runner and a candle, and the lush, beautiful, single red rose.

"Hello there.", Longbottom greeted him and Draco came to meet him for a kiss.

"Oh Merlin, this is so beautiful!", he uttered, totally gobsmacked. "Did you look this up or which one of your girlfriends told you how to set a table for a romantic dinner?"

Longbottom rolled his eyes. "There's the door, Malfoy."

Draco looked surprised at hearing his last name again, maybe too surprised, because then Longbottom chuckled and leaned in for another sweet kiss.

"You don't really think I'll let you leave any time soon tonight, do you?"

Draco huffed. "Good that at least one of us has an exact idea of where this evening is going..."

"Yeah, isn't it?", Longbottom grinned and pressed another kiss to his cheek before going back to his cooking. "So you like the flower?"

Draco looked at the red rose again and went over to smell it. "Yes, very much, thank you.", he answered, revelling in its rich smell. He wasn't sure if he should –

"I still don't know what's your favourite", Longbottom reminded him. "So I thought I go for a rose. Can't do nothing wrong with that."

Draco chuckled. "But why a red one and not...well, a pink one?", he wanted to know.

Longbottom looked at him over his shoulder and raised one eyebrow. "I think we've already left that chapter of 'gentle emotions and innocence' behind."

Draco cleared his throat. "Oh. Yeah." He chuckled. "So, er, I've brought you a little present.", he said and when Longbottom turned around, he produced the bottle of red whine from behind his back.

"Oh" Longbottom took it with wide eyes. "Thank you, but that wouldn't...I mean..." His eyes flicked sideways and he hesitated. Hesitated with his eyes on the bottle and his lips pressed together, and long enough to make Draco's heart sink with realisation.

"It's not poisoned.", he managed to say whithout giving away too much that he was feeling as if Longbottom had just punched him in his stomach.

"Er, what?", the other one asked as innocently as ever.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Common, Potter must have told you how I tried to poison Dumbledore with mead and got his Weasley friend instead."

"Um, yes, Ron told me, but..."

Merlin, was Longbottom a bad liar! Or was he just so damn slow on the uptake? "That's what you're thinking, isn't it?"

Longbottom's eyes widened. "N-no! Why do you – " Draco gasped as Longbottom caught him with a firm grip at the back of his neck and pulled him close until their foreheads were pressed together.

"Damn, Draco!", he said, and Draco could hear that he was trying hard to not sound angry. "What do I have to do that you trust me to trust you, Draco?", he asked, very quietly and with such a sweet smile that Draco felt the warmth come back to his chest.

He felt terrible for – "I-I'm sorry. Okay? I'm just used to..." He averted his gaze.

"You got enough of this shit, I know. But this ends now."

Draco nodded. He couldn't help but put his arms around his friend and was relieved when he got a long hug in return.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise I've been upsetting you.", Longbottom said and kept one hand on Draco's back as he looked at the bottle again. "I, er...it's just that I..."

Draco looked at the bottle and then at him with anticipation. "You what?" He begged Longbottom silently not to say something stupid and hurt him again. Merlin, he should have simply left that bloody bottle at home! Why hadn't he been thinking?!

Longbottom chuckled sheepishly. "I...I've never been able to tell which wine goes with which dish a-and it's even harder when everything's that's written there is in French!" Accusingly, he pointed at the label of the bottle. "A-and Gran told me a million times, but I still can't remember which glasses we need. It's just..." He let out a heavy sigh.

Draco stared at him. Then he noticed just how very relieved he felt and laughed softly.

"That's no tragedy, don't worry.", he finally said and stroked Longbottom's arm reassuringly. "I can help."

"Yeah.", his friend snorted. "Please."

"Well, alright. This is a red wine, Gamay from Burgundy where we – " He wasn't really sure why he said this, but he just kept on speaking, "we often went on holiday when I was little. What dish do you have prepared?"

"Er, lasagne.", Longbottom said and Draco noticed how cute he looked when he tried really hard to concentrate, frowning and licking his lips.

"Excellent.", Draco grinned, "If you want we can open it, because this one is juicy and fresh and would work very well with it."

"Alright." Longbottom nodded contentedly and took out two glasses to put them on the table. "Er, I haven't got any wine glasses, so..."

"No problem", Draco said and pulled out his wand. "We need these", he said before tapping each glass and speaking the incantation.

"Ah." Longbottom grinned. "The big ones."

"The big ones.", Draco nodded and was a bit surprised as his friend leaned down to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you. Maybe this time I'll remember."

"Why don't you?", Draco asked and watched Longbottom's fingers open the bottle.

"Ah, well..." He bit his lip. "I don't know how she does that, but Gran just always puts me under so much pressure. We're just talking about the weather and I think: I'm gonna mess this up, I'm gonna mess it up. ...Which I do then. Regularly."

Draco shrugged. "Yes, because you're convinced you would. Self-fulfilling prophecy, Longbottom."

"I know, and since the...the War it's gotten really better with other people, but not around her..." He looked really annoyed by it as he poured them the wine. "I can't do anything against it. It's pure physics: The nervous system just doesn't work when there are stress hormones everywhere. I can't even remember what she just said a second ago because I'm too busy thinking: don't mess up!"

Draco swallowed while he slowly took one of the glasses Longbottom handed him. "Yes, I...I know what that feels like.", he admitted, but wasn't sure if he should talk about his father now.

But Longbottom was a stupid Gryffindork with just too much social intelligence, so he looked at him thoughtfully and finally asked: "Do you miss your father?"

Draco sighed and followed his friend, who sat down at the small table. "...Yes.", he admitted carefully. "But not only since he's in Azkaban. I miss the father I had when...before the Dark – before he – "

"Harry always calls him Tom or Riddle." Longbottom said softly when his voice broke. Draco looked at him in surprise, then he just snorted. That Potter...

"Okay, so I miss the father I had before bloody Tom Riddle came back. Because, you know, it may sound odd, but he's been a good father."

Longbottom didn't look appalled. He didn't look anything, to be honest, just nodded. "So you had a nice childhood?"

"Oh yeah. I'm an only child, I've been everything they had, I was the centre of their lives." He had to grin crookedly. "I always got what I wanted."

"That's why you're so spoilt.", Longbottom chuckled and raised one eyebrow.

Draco snorted. "Probably.", he said and lowered his gaze to where his hands were playing with the tablecloth. "There are moments of hapiness with him I've tried to remember when he became more and more unbearable. Like when he taught me how to ride a broom. Or when I was very little, I could just throw myself at him and – you know the way you run to your father and he just grabs you and whirls you around?"

Longbottom was giving him a small smile when he looked up again. "No, I don't.", he said and made Draco's heart drop.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry...!"

Longbottom shook his head. "Don't be. Go on."

Draco bit his lip. "There's nothing to go on. I even ask myself whether it would have been better if he hadn't taught me anything. Like that I can't call my mother 'Mum' and cuddle her, because I'm not supposed to be soft, and that I can't cry, because I'm not supposed to be weak, and that I can't jump around in the gardens when I'm older than eleven, because now I'm supposed to be a gentleman." He grinned weakly. "Well, and of course that there are better wizarding families than others. Better people than others. I don't know, I – "

He rubbed his forehead and felt his throat constrict. "Sometimes I want to think that he's only done all of this...this business with Riddle to protect his family, to protect Mother and me, but I just can't deny the fact that he really, truly believed those things a-about blood and superiority.", he spat, because he didn't trust those words to linger too long on his tongue.

"And do you?", Longbottom asked gently, "Still believe what he's taught you?"

"It's in here.", he carefully said, pointing at his forehead. "I don't want to, you know, but sometimes I – I catch myself thinking and it sounds like...like something he would say or approve of."

Longbottom didn't look away and didn't lose his gentle expression. "Would he approve of us?", he asked.

Draco blinked and felt a wave of shame, which he pushed away with a snort and a crooked grin, burying his face in his palms. "Merlin, no! He would kill me."

"You see", Longbottom said and reached over to stroke his arm. "You're nothing like him. That's why you were shit as a Death Eater."

Draco's head snapped up and only when he saw Longbottom's amused grin, he realised that this hadn't been an insult.

"I guess that's a compliment.", he said carefully.

His friend raised his glass and his grin became a sweet smile. "It is, Draco, even if it's a bad one, sorry. I can do better."

Draco snorted and couldn't help but laugh. He followed suit and raised his glass too. "To what do we drink?"

"To trust.", his friend said and Draco nodded with a small smile. "To trust."

And they both drank and neither of them hesitated nor died.

"Mmh, it's good." Longbottom licked his lips. "Are you ready for the starter?"

"The starter?", Draco repeated, "Are we having more than one course?"

"Three.", Longbottom grinned and got up to fetch the first one.

Draco was surprised when he came back with two small plates with... "Is that ice cream?"

"No, not really.", his friend chuckled. "Just try it."

"Okay..." Draco took the small spoon and turned the plate a bit to examine what looked like a scoop of vanilla ice cream decorated with two small flowers. After he had tasted it, he was sure it wasn't vanilla, but it was cold, not sweet, and it tasted incredibly good.

"Is that...what is it? It's fabulous."

Longbottom smiled. "It's radish, mostly. Last week, I was experimenting with it, 'cause I had so much left, and then...bang, somehow I managed to freeze it." He shrugged. "And it tasted quite good. So I thought I would try to repeat that today."

Draco laughed. "You're incredible. If I'm honest, I wasn't able to picture you cooking, now I know why. Following instructions isn't your forte, is it?"

Longbottom rolled his eyes. "What are you implying?"

Draco grinned around another spoon full of radish cream. "Nothing. You have improved a lot since Slughorn took over."

"Yeah. Stress hormones, you know."

"I know.", he nodded with a smile. "But I tell you, this is really excellent. And very imaginative. I'd never thought that."

"Well" Longbottom winked at him. "I'm full of surprises."

Draco chuckled. "Yes. Like the one that you can like me."

Immediately, Longbottom's face became serious. "Draco, I've told you I couldn't hate – "

"Last time I checked there was a difference between not hating someone and wanting to get into their pants."

His friend blushed. "Well", he said, looking down at his plate. "It surprised me too... Actually, no, I mean...it surprised me how nice and funny it was having a real conversation with you, you know, the first time you came to my shop."

Draco smiled. He had had similiar thoughts then, he remembered. "I can imagine. But it didn't surprise you that you wanted to jump my bones? Or didn't you till...?"

Longbottom looked at him enquiringly. "What?"

"I mean..." Draco had to persuade himself to say it. "When I took off my clothes in front of you?"

"Oh. No. No, I..." Longbottom smiled shyly and he could see how he blushed slightly. "I realised that I found you attractive when we Apparated together."

"The first time?", he asked in surprise.

His friend nodded and Draco watched how he nervously played with the spoon between his lips. "Yeah. You know I...I don't know about you, but I know that I prefer guys since fourth year, probably."

"Forth year?", Draco repeated. "Well, me sooner." He grinned sheepishly and made Longbottom chuckle.

"Yeah, okay. I've been perfectly sure when I, er...had my first crush in fifth year. On Harry."

Draco raised both eyebrows. "You do realise if it's still your plan to make me stay overnight and not sleep on the sofa yourself, you better stop there."

Longbottom snorted. "There is nothing to go on about. I just wanted to tell you that I realised... All the other boys, like Dean and Ron, and even Seamus, who's shorter but very strong, they never got me to feel like... A-and then I held you, and although you're tall you're even lighter and leaner than Harry, and I realised how...how much I like that I can...put my arms around you a-and...I don't know, you just fit."

Draco tried his best not to blush, but he could feel his neck and face heating up, because he couldn't deny that he liked that too, very much, but that didn't mean he had to admit it in front of Longbottom.

Instead he went for a serious face when he looked at his friend challengingly. "So you get off on the thought that you could crush me." It wasn't even a question.

Longbottom furrowed his brow. "No.", he said very calmly, "I get off on the thought that no one can, because I protect you."

Draco was sure that this time, he couldn't hide anymore how much he liked this. So he did what he always did to distract from his weakness: insult the person opposite.

"That must be a common Gryffindor kink."

Longbottom threw him a look that went straight to his groin. "It's not a kink."

When Draco quickly looked down at his plate, he realised that it was already empty. He was still hungry.

"Ready for second course?", Longbottom asked and already got up.

"Er, yes. Yes, please."

He hesitated with Draco's plate, standing very close to him so Draco had to crane his neck to look at him. "You can eat the flowers too, you know."

"Oh, I...I know, but...they're so pretty."

Longbottom grinned amused, took one and put it into his mouth. "I'd have to throw them away.", he said, so when he took the second one and offered it to Draco, he hesitantly parted his lips and let Longbottom put it onto his tongue.

"Feels weird.", he mumbled while chewing on the petals.

His friend bent down to kiss his temple before fetching the main course.

As promised, it was lasagne, and when Longbottom put it down in front of him, Draco could feel how he brushed his silver-blond hair with his nose as if he was sniffing it.

Draco kept still.

"What are you...?"

He heard Longbottom inhale. "You..." He heard him smile. "When I held you close while Apparating, I also realised how much I love your smell. Is it...lilac?"

Draco chuckled embarrassedly, but was still disappointed when Longbottom left his side and sat down again. "Er, yes, it's...in my haircare."

Longbottom looked thoughtful. "I remembered it from school. I must've always been too anxious to appreciate it."

Draco lowered his gaze. He felt bad. "I..."

"So, tuck in!", his friend interrupted him with a wide grin. "I'm really excited to find out if you like it."

Draco shook his head with a crooked smile. Longbottom was really too good for him...

And speaking of which... The lasagne tasted...special. But surprisingly good special.

"Wow. What's this? Is this...beetroot?"

Longbottom bit his lip. "Yeah. Is it any good?"

"Yes. Yes, I would've never even thought about... But it's delicious. Wow. You're really creative.", Draco laughed softly and noticed once more how pretty Longbottom smiled.

"Doesn't work with potions, unfortunately.", his friend shrugged.

"No.", Draco chuckled. "But now, you've got someone who you can ask if you need one.", he winked.

"I do." Longbottom grinned. "The flobberworms don't come near my plants anymore. Oh, I think I've..." His eyes widened. "I've forgotten to thank you for that, haven't I?"

Draco shrugged. As he remembered, there had been a little incident at his last visit, so he wasn't cross. "I'm glad I could help." He indicated his plate with his fork. "Why is there so little?", he asked.

Longbottom looked surprised, then he raised one eyebrow. "I thought because we're having three courses and I didn't want us to run out of breath before I can serve my infamous pudding. But I should've known that you're insatiable."

Draco snorted, but he had to grin too. "Or you're just a very good cook, Longbottom."

Longbottom blinked at him in an affectionate manner. "How long are you gonna keep calling me that?"

"As long as I want to."

His friend rolled his eyes, but he was clearly amused.

"So, don't you want to tell me too?", he said as he poured them another glass of wine. "When did you decide that you can like me?"

"Oh, I..." Draco took a sip of his wine before clearing his throat. His friend had been honest with him, so he would have to do the same. "Well, I suppose the Daily Prophet bullied me into it.", he answered with a small grin.

Longbottom cringed. "Ugh, really?"

Draco snorted. "Common. You're on every second front page! I could not have missed what a handsome man you've become, even if I had wanted to..."

His friend lowered his gaze shyly. "Thank you, I guess."

Draco smiled. "And, I mean, that you've been very charming during our first encounter, is obvious. I, er..." He felt hot when he said it, but he did: "I've also noticed how good you smelled when we Apparated. Like...like earth a-and sweat." He bit his lip, but didn't look away. "You gave me wonderful dreams that night."

Longbottom blushed. But he did not only blush. He also looked him straight in the eye with...with want.

"I like that you're not so terribly shy anymore. Your new boldness suits you.", he said quietly and winked.

His friend laughed softly, bit his lip, and then his hand was reaching out, so Draco put down the knife and presented his own, fingers spread open for him, and Longbottom took it.

"Then tell me", he demanded, "How did you react to those...deams?"

Draco was captivated by Longbottom's gaze, he was trapped by his hand, and it felt just so very good.

"I touched myself.", he answered honestly and liked to see the effect of his words on his friend's face. "Got myself off while I imagined it were your..." He gently stroked Longbottom's hand. "...strong fingers doing this to me..."

The very next second, Longbottom's fingers gripped his hand harder with just the kind of tightness Draco enjoyed, because it didn't hurt, but would leave red streaks on his skin for a few seconds.

He felt his breath quicken.

Then Longbottom was suddenly on his feet and pulled him up.

"Hey, what about the – " The sentence ended in his friend's mouth who was kissing him so hungrily it made Draco whimper.

"Change of plans.", Longbottom panted.

"You promised me three courses."

"Yeah, you can have my pudding later. First I will have you."

Draco was ready with a double, but then he decided that Longbottom's arms around his waist and his lips on his cheek felt too good to protest.

"O-okay, wait. Wait a second." When his friend loosened his grip around him for a moment, Draco could put out the candle with a wave of his hand and have a smell of the pretty rose before turning back to Longbottom for a kiss.

They ended up on the sofa, his friend pulling him onto his lap, so Draco straddled him and let his fingers run through his dark thick hair as they kissed each other senseless.

"Draco...", Longbottom panted.

"Yes.", he breathed against his ear and kissed and licked the tanned skin while his hands started to open his friend's shirt.

"I'm sorry", Longbottom said. "I've messed up again. I-I really wanted to be romantic f-for you today..."

"This is totally romantic.", Draco tried to convince him and made a delighted sound when he finally was able to touch his friend's naked chest. "This is absolutely...romantic."

Longbottom chuckled softly. "That's... _good_ , ahh...", he moaned as Draco rubbed his nipple with his thumb.

"You like that, do you?", Draco whispered and as an answer he got a wet kiss and was pressed tight into Longbottom's lap who was grinding up against him.

Draco moaned breathlessly into his friend's mouth and did his best to open the checked shirt completely so he could push it off those shoulders he wanted to see and touch and kiss.

"You're so outrageously fit.", he panted, the shirt on the floor and his hands glued to Longbottom's chest, his lips to his right shoulder. "How can you be so fit?"

His friend chuckled and Draco noticed with glee how he put his hands into his blond hair. "You sound a-as...as if it was rude..."

"It _is_.", he insisted, and maybe he would have added that it was especially rude to hide this body under unnecessary clothing in the first place, but then Longbottom suddenly pushed him upwards and he let go of him with a gasp.

His lips were caught in a long, deep kiss while Longbottom's hands made short work of his shirt buttons.

"I like that shirt.", he mumbled in between kisses.

"Y-yeah?"

"The green compliments your skin and hair."

Draco made a strangled sound as his friend pulled the shirt out of his trousers and the fabric brushed along his crotch.

"Green and silver...", Longbottom whispered, pushing the shirt open and letting his hands roam over Draco's chest and sides, making him shiver in his lap. "That's not a coincidence, is it?"

Draco smirked and lowered his head to kiss his friend thoroughly. "It's not. But you still like it, don't you?", he teased.

"I like green.", Longbottom said, their foreheads pressed together, his eyes so full of longing. "I don't like snakes. And I absolutely adore you."

With that he darted at Draco's neck and kissed it, licked it, so Draco had to hold tight to Longbottom's back and moan quietly.

"I also like your skin.", he heard his friend whisper between licks. "It's so pale...like cream...", he said, and Draco took a sharp breath, as he trailed two fingers down his neck, his chest, his belly, the digits pressing into his skin and muscles so they left visible lines. "You can see where I touched you.", he stated matter-of-factly.

"Y-yes", Draco got a grip on himself again and turned his head so Longbottom had to see the marks on his neck. "You see this?", he asked and did his very best to sound accusingly. "They're still from yesterday morning."

Longbottom had the decency to look guily at least, but not for long. He touched the love bites with very gentle fingers and his look became rather fascinated. "They...they are...? But I didn't even suck that long."

"Well, my skin is very sensitive.", Draco insisted, "So you better – better be...hey." He got very distracted as Longbottom started to lick his marks, catching both his wrists in a tight grip when he tried to push him away.

"Why don't you just...glamour them...away?", he breathed in between licks and kisses and – _sucks_.

"H-have you even l-listened?", Draco panted. "B-be careful.", he demanded, but who was he kidding? He could feel that Longbottom was nowhere near careful and he actually presented him with his neck.

But this felt so good, it felt so right, those hot lips on his sensitive skin, his friend's content moans as he worked himself from his ear to his collarbone, leaving a trail of wet, prickling, burning flesh behind.

Draco was rock hard and squirming in Longbottom's lap when those lips finally reached his chest. He was panting, whimpering and shamelessly grinding his hips into his friend's lap so he could feel Longbottom's own erection rub against his buttocks. Sweet Salazar, and he felt so good...so big and hot and promising... Draco wanted him. He wanted him now. He wanted to –

He pushed Longbottom back into the back of the sofa and looked at him with hungry eyes.

"I was promised a three course meal.", he said quietly, "I want my pudding."

"Er, uh...but...", Longbottom stammered, totally confused and utterly cute as Draco already spread wet kisses over his friend's chest and belly while slowly sliding down the sofa until he was kneeling on the floor between his legs.

Whereas Longbottom looked down at him with a mix of mild horror and trembling anticipation, Draco knew exactly what he was doing when he opened the jeans and pulled down the pants. He had done this several times to Zabini in their fourth year when he had still been willing to experiment with him.

But this wasn't Zabini, this was Longbottom who he wanted to impress, who he wanted to show how much he wanted him – and, shit, did Longbottom want _him_. He was painfully hard, felt so incredibly hot and heavy in Draco's hand and was already leaking pre-cum from his tip. Draco felt his mouth water.

"Dra – Draco..."

He shot Longbottom a hungry look, then closed his eyes and sucked him into his mouth.

His friend moaned his name and Draco moaned too. Merlin, he couldn't believe how much he had to stretch his mouth and still he wasn't able to take all of him. So he used his hand as well and started to bob his head while alternating between licks and sucks until his spit was dripping down his chin.

But he was doing a good job, judging by the sounds his friend made, by the way his legs trembled and he couldn't stop babbling and swearing.

"D-Draco, you – Merlin, ho-ow c-can you – fuck, you look s-so hot, you – ahngh..."

Draco looked up at Longbottom, and when he met his eyes, he felt the look of pure pleasure he saw there go straight to his groin where his own erection was throbbing painfully and probably ruining his pants.

Despite all of this, Draco wasn't happy yet with the way things were going, because Longbottom's hands were holding onto the sofa instead of his head, and his hips didn't move as if they were glued to the spot.

Draco wanted them to move, he wanted those hands he loved so much on him, in his hair, wanted it to be played with, pulled at.

But he wouldn't say so, Merlin no. Longbottom would start soon enough to lose control, he just had to do better...

He went deeper with his mouth until he could feel the tip bump against the back of his throat and Longbottom's legs twitched. He moaned loudly, making Draco gasp with pleasure, but his hips kept still and his hands kept abusing the sofa. _He couldn't believe it!_

With a frustrated sound, Draco let go of his friend's erection and glared at him. "I'm no china doll, you know?", he said hoarsely.

Longbottom only stared at him, totally dazed. "Uh...yeah...", he replied, clearly not knowing what he was saying.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You can grab my hair – o-or move your hips, I don't mind. It's surely better for you too like that, don't you think?"

He saw Longbottom swallow. "Y-yeah, alright. But...I'm afraid I'll hurt you, l-like...choke you or something..."

"Maybe I" Draco forced himself not to look away. "Maybe I'd like that.", he said, finally spilling the truth and hoping that his friend would understand somehow.

Longbottom blinked, then realisation dawned on him and he stared at him. Draco couldn't stand that intense stare and looked down.

That's when his friend reached for his cheek, cupping it gently with one of those big, warm hands, and made him look up.

Longbottom's mud-green eyes had gone very soft and his thumb carefully stroked Draco's cheek.

"Can you tell me if I go too far?", he asked.

Draco quickly thought about it, then he put his hands on Longbottom's thighs and formed the very beginning of a _Rictusempra_ in his mind.

Longbottom jumped and gasped, so it was clearly working. "Oh. That's good.", he smiled, and then, finally, _yes_ , his hands found into Draco's hair, stroking it softly, massaging his head. Draco immediately bent back down to go on, and it was _so much better_...

Longbottom was moving his hips, playing with his hair, losing control until he was pulling at it and hitting the back of his throat with every thrust.

Draco was trying hard to suppress his gag reflex, to breathe through his nose, to suck and lick at all the right times and places, and he loved it.

It only got even better when Longbottom gathered his wits and stopped his incoherent moaning to breathlessly ask him: "Do you...do you think you can take more, Draco? For me?"

Oh, fuck, _yes_. He moaned with his mouth full and tried to relax his throat as much as possible before he swallowed his friend's erection down, slowly, inch by inch, until he felt the dark pubic hair tickle his nose.

He couldn't breathe without difficulty, he couldn't move with those strong fingers holding him in place, he couldn't see because there were tears clouding his eyes, but he could hear Longbottom moan in pleasure like he hadn't heard him moan before.

This was so good...this was too good...oh shit, he was going to come in his pants, that's how good it was, but what he loved most, what he really, truly adored and cherished was Longbottom asking him in this of all situations: "Alright?", and managing to sound sweet and concerned.

Draco could barely nod, only whimper in pleasure, and hoped that the lust in his eyes conveyed how incredibly alright he was.

His friend gave his hair a soft pull, shoving him down his length, and Draco took a deep breath before he pushed back in with a moan that made Draco's whole being throb.

He sucked his friend in, moved his head eagerly where Longbottom let him and let his mouth be fucked where he didn't, all the while on trembling knees, digging his fingernails into Longbottom's thighs and making sounds he himself couldn't decipher.

His head was already clouded due to shortage of oxygen and the spit dripping from his chin mixed with pre-cum, when his friend actually asked him if he could come in his mouth.

Draco moaned his eager agreement. He would have actually begged him to if he could, going by the state he was in by now, so he was quite glad that his mouth was stuffed with delicious cock, because a Malfoy didn't beg.

When Longbottom grabbed his head with trembling fingers a few seconds later, his thighs quivering, Draco's name on his lips and his thrusts frantic and clumsy before coming to a sudden halt, it was incredibly intense. Draco felt the muscles in his jaw burn, but he wouldn't stop sucking and swallowing, taking as much as he could, until his head was pushed away by the quivering mess that was his friend.

Draco sank against Longbottom's leg, wheezing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He himself was shaking because, _fuck_ , if he wasn't going to come in the next ten seconds, he was probably going to die.

"Draco...oh, Merlin, y-you're incredible..."

Longbottom had finally found his voice again and pulled him up onto his lap and into a kiss, in which Draco could only participate by opening his tired mouth.

"You're such a show-off.", his friend whispered, "I...I've never experienced anything like...like..."

As much as the muscles in his jaw hurt, Draco couldn't help but smirk smugly. "Apparently, you've chosen the right friend to fool around with.", he slured, and it only took two seconds for him to realise that, apparently, he had chosen the wrong words at the sight of Longbottom's hurt look.

The hurt changed to determination as quickly as his arms coiled around Draco's waist to hold him tight when he said: "I've chosen the right boyfriend to fall in love with."

From that point on, everything was rather a blur.

Longbottom opening his trousers, touching him, sucking his nipples, sliding down the back of the sofa until his head was level with Draco's erection. The wet, hot mouth engulfing him, the sucks, the licks, the strong fingers kneading his buttocks.

It must have been less than a minute until he came, collapsing against his – his boyfriend.

  
  


Slowly Draco came back to his senses. Taking deep, slow breaths helped. Holding tight to Longbottom too.

Longbottom was gently stroking his back and his hair and it felt so wonderful he could cry if he didn't hold back.

"I was right.", he heard his boyfriend say with a grin, the warm lips pressed to Draco's cheek.

"About what?", he whispered, voice still hoarse.

"About you being a spoilt brat. Can't stand it if you don't get your pudding."

"You promised me.", he replied, "I was looking forward to it. You surely can't blame me."

Longbottom chuckled. "No, I can't.", he said, his thumb brushing Draco's swollen lips. "I try to make it up to you, okay? You want your pudding now?"

Draco smiled.

"Then you can use your cleaning spell if you can't wait for me to fetch some tissues. Just this once."

Draco laughed softly, but pulled his wand out of his sleeve and turned back to look at his boyfriend, whose lap he was still stradling. There was a second of hesitation, but something in Longbottom's look made him go through with it and point his wand at his chest.

They were both silent, barely breathing, just staring into each other's eyes until Longbottom licked his lips. Draco slowly lowered his wand, draggind its tip over his boyfriend's chest and down his belly.

" _Scourgify_."

Longbottom gasped, then laughed softly.

"It always tickles a bit, doesn't it?", Draco grinned before turning his wand at himself now.

He also cleaned his chin and neck, tilting his head back slightly, but not his mouth, because he didn't want to eat soap. A few sips of wine would do.

When he lowered his wand again, he was surprised to find Longbottom stare at him so openly hungrily as if they hadn't had incredible sex just now.

"What?", he asked and noticed his boyfriend's gaze following his wand.

Longbottom cleared his throat. "Okay", he admitted, "Maybe it's not especially romantic, but, damn, it's hot. You...your pale, delicate fingers and that dark, slender wood..."

Draco shook his head with a grin. "Don't even think about it, Longbottom. I want my pudding. Now."

His boyfriend laughed and cupped his cheeks to kiss him. "I thought you just had your pudding. Wasn't it enough?"

"Oh, common, I'm armed.", he said and would have loved to playfully point his wand to Longbottom's head or neck, but he wasn't sure how he would take it, so he just left it at that.

But it already did the trick anyway. "Oh, yeah, sure. Common, let's get dressed."

They did, helping each other with their shirt buttons, and finally returned to the kitchen where Longbottom served him his promised, infamous pudding: chocolate soufflé with Scottish Drambuie, decorated with redcurrants.

Draco was beaming, feeling warm from the in- and outside. He took the rose to bed, insisting it should be placed on the bedside table, and after Longbottom had had a look at his properly healing forearm, he cuddled up with him under the blanket.

Longbottom had said he loved him. Him, a son of the Malfoys and Blacks, a former Death Eater and his schooldays bully.

This day was definitely worth going down in history.


	11. Outings

It had been hard leaving him. Getting up from that bed when it had been the first night without nightmares and he hadn't taken any potion. It's been just his arms. His warmth. His smell that made him feel safe.

But when he left the next morning, he left with the prospect of their reunion just two days from now, because Longbottom wanted another date. He had suggested to meet at a restaurant, but Draco hadn't been very fond of that. He'd told him he didn't like going out that much, which was a total lie: he'd love to go have a fancy, romantic dinner with his boyfriend; he just didn't want the world to see with whom war hero Neville Longbottom spent his time with.

So they had agreed to meet at Longbottom's on Sunday, probably for another four star dinner and hopefully for another round of lots of snogging and...well.

Draco pointed his wand to his throat and whispered the incantation to put a glamour over his love bites after stepping through the wards at Malfoy Manor. Just because he could practically still feel them burn on his skin didn't mean his mother or Tessy had to see them.

He was only half the way to the main entrance when he could see an owl delivering their mail.

"Hey!", he waved, "You can hand it to me!"

The owl turned around in a wide circle and went into a steep dive so he could catch the letters out of its claws.

"Thank you!"

He quickly went through them to see if there were any addressed to him, but it was just the usual advertisement, newspaper, magazines and –

There was a letter with the name _Tonks_ on its red seal.

"Mother?"

He quickened his pace and stormed into the dining room where he found his mother at breakfast.

"Mother! What's that?"

She was still wearing her dressing gown and looked at the letter and then at him in shock.

"Draco, where did you – ?"

"It arrived by owl just now. Why do we get letters from Tonks? Do we have to be worried?"

His mother composed herself and took the letter gently from Draco's hand. "I wrote to my sister.", she said.

Now it was Draco who stared at her. "Your sis- Andromeda?", he asked.

"Exactly.", his mother nodded.

"You wrote to her? Why on earth did you - " Draco stopped because he could see that she was miles away. She took the butter knife from the table without looking and opened the letter with visible nervousness. Her eyes scanned the words and Draco could swear she held her breath which she only released when she had finished reading.

A hesitant smile spread on her lips as she looked up at him. "She...she has agreed to meet me."

Draco didn't know what to say, but just seeing his mother so relieved made him lose his own tense posture. "That's...that's good, isn't it?", he asked tentatively.

Mother nodded. "Yes. I guess so." She cleared her throat and put the letter into a pocket of her dressing gown.

"How was your meeting with Mr Longbottom?", she asked all of a sudden.

"Oh, er..." Draco had already thought he had escaped that interrogation, but this was his mother, after all. "Nice. Very, er, fruitful." He cringed inwardly at his choice of words. "In fact, we will meet again on Sunday and I'll make a couple of potions until then."

"That's nice indeed.", his mother beamed at him, and she hesitated for a second, but then she pulled him in to sit on her lap. "I see, you've stayed overnight again.", she added with a hint of an amused grin while ruffling his hair.

"Hey, stop!", he laughed, "Yes, I was drunk, okay?"

She made a face. "Draco, my dear, you know you get drunk easily."

"I'm okay. I did nothing to bring the Malfoy name into disrepute. I promise."

She pinched his cheek and he felt like ten again.

"Breakfast?", she asked.

"Of course.", he said and pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek before getting up.

"So, did I get that right?", she asked while he took a few bites from the scrambled eggs Tessy had made him (he had already eaten Longbottom's yoghurt bowl). "You're free tomorrow?"

Draco nodded, his mouth full.

"I was thinking about getting a few new clothes. Would you like to accompany me?"

"Mh, yeah, sure!", he was in immediately. He had always loved going shopping with his mother. "But I get to look around too, okay?"

She gave him an amused, knowing look. "Of course."

  
  


After breakfast, Draco went down to the dungeon to get to work on the potions he wanted to have ready for Sunday...and a little extra project that should be just as much fun.

When he prepared the ingredients he needed, he spotted the diary on the table. It irritated him for a second, because he'd thought he had left it on the chaise longue. Well...

When he left for lunch, he took it with him to bring it to the library where he met his mother, writing a letter, probably the answer to her sister.

"Have you been to the dungeon, Mum?", he asked her.

She looked up, a puzzled look on her face. "Why would I?"

He hesitated, then went on to find a place to store the diary. "Never mind. I'm just gonna put the Black's Annales somewhere here, okay?"

"Yes, er – I think the section with the volumes about the Sacred Twenty-Eight would be a good place."

"Alright."

"Er, can I borrow your fashion magazines?", he asked after having put the book in one of the bookcases.

If his mother was irritated by this question, she didn't let it show. "Of course. They're – "

"In the last drawer, I know. Shall we go see if Tessy's already prepared lunch then?", he asked

His mother looked startled and sprung to her feet. "Oh dear, is it already that late? I wanted to help her!"

Draco chuckled and followed her downstairs, a pile of colourful magazines floating behind him.

  
  


In the evening, he had all the potions ready he wanted to give to Longbottom on Sunday to sell them. He was also looking forward to the shopping tour with his mother tomorrow. It felt good, he felt good, and he felt like taking a long, hot bath in his skin-care concoction of tea tree oil and roses.

As the tub filled itself with warm water, Draco undressed. He stopped when he had slowly taken off his green shirt and it fell to the floor, leaving his left forearm lying bare.

Looking at the scars, Draco couldn't even understand why he had done this to himself. Well, of course, he still knew the reason, but it didn't make sense anymore. Longbottom was right: his skin was very sensitive and too precious to be handled like that.

With gentle touches Draco trailed his fingertips over the love bites on his neck and shoulder.

He decided then and there: From now on, the only marks inflicted on his body shall be Longbottom's.

  
  


With the thought of his boyfriend, Draco let himself be engulfed by the hot, nice smelling water, and it only took twenty minutes of daydreaming until he was pretty aroused.

Merlin, how he wished Longbottom was here...his outrageously fit body all naked and wet, his lips damp...he could cuddle up into his warmth, he could feel his toned body slide against his...

He could let him fuck him. Oh damn, yes, how he would love that: being taken by him, being loved...

Draco gasped. His hand wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He tried to keep a cool head in the steamy bathroom and summoned his wand. With it he summoned his toothbrush and hand creme.

He had done this almost regularly back at school. After he had become a Prefect and had been entitled to have a bathroom all to himself, he had started with those...experiments. Putting his Transfiguration knowledge to use he had started with an apple. Two taps with his wand...

Draco gasped when he looked at the now decidedly bigger rod out of the same hard rubber material as his toothbrush with just the right length and girth.

He hadn't started with something as big as this then, of course, but right now it looked perfect.

When he used his fingers to make himself open up, he thought about his boyfriend's fingers, and when he inserted his self-made love instrument, taking it in inch by inch, he thought about his boyfriend's cock.

Damn, he had to tell him. He had to tell him he wanted this. He bet Longbottom would love it too, wouldn't he?

What if he didn't?

Merlin, he just _had_ to!

Biting back a moan, Draco indulged further in his fantasies until he came with a quiet whimper and his boyfriend's name on his tongue.

"Neville..."

It tasted weird. Unknown. But thrilling. Draco wasn't sure how to feel about that yet.

  
  


  
  


His mother was dressed impeccably as ever when she awaited him at the bottom of the stairs on Saturday morning.

"You look marvellous, Mum.", he beamed.

"Thank you, you too my son."

"This really suits you.", he said and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"My hairdo or the dress?"

"The smile."

She looked a bit startled, but then it only got even brighter. "Malfoys... You're worse than your father, little Casanova.", she teased him, already heading for the door.

"Oh no, you don't call me Casanova!", Draco protested, following her with his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. "I don't need love potions to conquer girls."

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but there hasn't been a girl in your life since Pansy Parkinson, has there?"

Draco hesitated and avoided her gaze by looking at the steps they were taking down the front of the house. "Yes, well..." He wasn't sure why she addressed this sad chapter of his love life. Pansy had been swooning over him since first year probably, so it actually hadn't needed any sort of conquering when in fifth year he decided to make her his girlfriend so everyone at home would stop talking about marriage and everyone at school would stop speculating about his sexual orientation.

There hadn't been anything beyond snogging, of course, because he was a pure-blood gentleman and she probably thought he was just going to wait until they got married, but even that had already been a waste. His first kiss, with a girl he didn't love.

Draco composed himself.

"There's been this incident people call the War.", he began, "Since then, no one wants to cross paths with me. I have no idea why that is, Mother."

His mother sniggered. "You could be so charming if I hadn't taught you how to be sarcastic...", she sighed. "But you're wrong, my dear. I get a lot of letters from people who are desperate for you to meet their daughter."

Draco looked at her and couldn't hide that he was shocked. "Are you serious? W-why...why haven't you made me meet one yet then?"

Mother smirked. "They simply don't fulfil my expectations. And I bet yours neither."

They shared a look and Draco asked himself if she knew something.

But that couldn't be, could it?

No: His mother sighed. "They must be under the impression that after the War blood purity isn't a precondition anymore for us, and you can just marry anyone."

Draco felt his chest constrict as they stepped through the wards at their gate. "C-can't I?", he blurted before he could stop himself. "I mean... Can't I marry who I fall in love with?"

His mother halted and gently touched his arm. "The first meeting between your father and me was an arranged one with the purpose of a future marriage." She smiled. "When we finally married, we were madly in love."

Draco hesitated. "So...so you suggest I just meet the girl you chose for me and fall in love with her? Easy as pie." He couldn't help being sarcastic.

Mother was amused. She took his arm and grinned. "I'm happy that you go out again and meet _anybody_ to fall in love with, dear.", she said and winked.

Draco opened his mouth, but then he already could feel how his mother started to Apparate, so he held tight and let himself be dragged along.

  
  


They appeared at...in a narrow, dark alley at whose end he could see – _cars_?

"Mum?" He was deeply irritated, especially that his mother was walking towards the street. "Mum, this is not the Leaky Cauldron, you must have – "

"We're perfectly right.", she interrupted him, not turning around, so he hurried along until they stepped out of the shades of the alley and he slipped behind his mother into the crowd of buzzling pedestrians.

It was an understatement that he was shocked. "Is this _Muggle London_?", he hissed and was so irritated, he didn't protest when his mother took his arm.

"We're in Bond Street.", she nodded with a smile and quick, intrigued glances around. "The magazines I've read say this is the place to go shopping for luxurious robes and accessories."

"Yeah, for Muggles", Draco insisted, "but not for – "

"I'm sure we will enjoy ourselves. Let's give it a try, Draco, hm?"

Draco blinked. He looked around and was overwhelmed with the sight of cars, signs, lights, shops and the loud sounds of the traffic and crowd they were swimming in like two fish that have gotten lost in the wrong pond.

 _Oh_.

"You're running away.", he couldn't believe it, but the short but nervous flicker of her eyelashes betrayed her. "You're avoiding their stares and whispers in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, that's why we're here where no one knows who we are."

The fact that she was looking away from his inquiring gaze to one of the shopping windows, was answer enough to him.

"Mother!" He couldn't tolerate this. Well, he had been the one creeping around in Hogsmeade with his hood up, but mingling with Muggles and considering buying their stuff was impossible! "This is beneath us! We can't just run, that's pathetic! We'll be the laughing stock if anybody sees us in this filthy Muggle street trying on their inferior cloth- "

He stopped abruptly, because he was following his mother's gaze towards the window where there were three mannequins showing different outfits for men and women and one of them was the most stunning and refined suit he had ever seen.

"Merlin's beard!", he hissed.

Hesitantly he looked at his mother. She looked back, the same glint in her eyes. Without exchanging any words they entered the shop.

  
  


The shop interior was as classy as the suits they were selling, just the electric light was a tad irritating to the eye, but Draco had to admit that it displayed the clothes in a crisp and appealing way that no charmed torch or chandelier in Diagon Alley could.

"Welcome, Mrs. Mr.", they were greeted immediately by a young shop assistant with a short nod, who was dressed surprisingly tasteful for being a Muggle. "My name is Andrew. How may I help you, Mrs...?"

The guy looked expectantly at his mother who was wearing her charming, public smile. "Mrs Malfoy.", she said and managed to sound as if it was out of sheer generosity that he got to know her name, while extending a hand for him, which he took with just the slightest hesitation that told Draco that this was not the usual formal greeting in the Muggle world. Nonetheless, _Andrew_ bowed his head and indicated a kiss to his mother's hand which, on the other hand, told Draco that Muggles at least knew about this custom and weren't the last barbarians.

"This is my son, Mr Malfoy."

"Welcome, Mr Malfoy.", Andrew greeted Draco as well and shook his hand before turning back to his mother.

"What a beautiful name. I've never heard it before. Actually, I've never seen you visiting us before.", he continued and indicated to follow him into the back of the shop where there was a leather couch and two armchairs awaiting them.

"That's because of our French heritage.", Mother half-lied. "We usually buy our clothes in France. This our first time in Bond Street."

Draco waited for his mother to sit down, then he sat next to her on the couch.

Andrew stayed standing, awaiting a colleague who carried a tray from which Andrew took two flutes of Champagne.

"Ah, that's nice! I'm honoured to be of help to you with shaping your first visit to our store to your pleasure.", he said and offered them the Champagne.

Draco forced himself not to roll his eyes. Well, he usually liked it when people payed court to him, but this was kind of ridiculous. And Andrew wasn't even good looking.

Nevertheless, the Champagne tasted fine.

"Why don't you tell me how I can be of assistance to you?"

Thankfully, his mother began to speak. "I was looking for something more casual than my usual attire. But I still want it to be chic, not one of those Mu – I mean, jeans fabrics."

"Oh, don't worry, we've got none of that here.", Andrew smiled brightly. "What you're wearing is indeed a very festive and elegant dress, Mrs Malfoy. I go see if we got something here that matches your taste. May I just get your measurements?"

Mum had some numbers ready for him, which he repeated to himself, before heading off to fetch the clothes.

Now Draco was free to roll his eyes.

Mum tut-tutted him, but smirked. "Cheers", she said and they drank another sip from their Champagne.

In no time Andrew was back with three dresses on a rail, all of them very simple in comparison to what his mother was wearing at the moment, with no laces, no ruche, one of them with lace at the back.

He hung the first in one of the four spacious changing rooms to which his mother withdrew.

Now Andrew was all his.

"Do you want to wait here, Mr Malfoy, or are you looking for something particular too?"

Actually, he _was_ good looking, Draco couldn't deny that, but he was tall and lank and not even close to being his type.

If only Longbottom could bring him Champagne, ask him if he could be of any help to him, and then fuck him senseless on that couch...

"Er, I, no. Thank you.", he answered sparingly.

Andrew smiled unwaveringly at him, standing there like he was waiting to take orders.

Draco put down his glass of Champagne.

"More Champagne?", Andrew asked immediately.

Draco couldn't help but grin.

Sweet Salazar, he still enjoyed it incredibly much when people were ready to lick his boots. Too much to be good, actually.

"Thanks, no, I – "

At that moment, his mother already stepped out of the changing room in a clinging red dress that reached her ankles but showed her bare shoulders and was only held up by two incredibly fragile looking strings, so it revealed so much cleavage Draco hadn't seen from her since...well, probably the time he'd been breastfed, which was an appalling thought.

Without noticing he had shot to his feet. "Merlin, Mother! You can't wear that!"

"I'm rather shocked by it myself...", she said while looking at herself in the mirror, probably considering if there was any possibility at all to carry her wand with that dress.

But Andrew was of a completely different opinion. "But there's nothing suggestive about it.", he tried to reassure her, even though Draco was positively sure that just the fact that it was red was scandalous. "Cate Blanchett was wearing it in a slightly different red to the Golden Globes."

"Well, do I look like a Cate Blanchett to you, Andrew?", she asked sternly, ignoring the fact that she just as little as Draco knew who Cate Blanchett was.

"No! Of course not, Mrs Malfoy, I'm deeply sorry! Please excuse my poor judgement. I-I hope the other two dresses will be more to your liking, then."

"They better be."

Andrew cringed at his mother's words and Draco was enjoying to watch.

When his mother was back inside the changing room, he offered Draco a weak smile, who was so not letting him off the hook yet. This was just too funny.

He sat down on the couch again, leaning back with one arm against the back rest, and crossed his legs. "Wasn't there something about more Champagne, Andrew?"

Andrew was beginning to sweat.

When his mother was ready again, this time wearing a black midi dress with a leaf pattern in lace at the shoulders, the arms and the back, Andrew was just arriving with a whole bottle of Champagne.

"Oh – Mrs, Malfoy, I see you – you're already – You didn't need help with anything?", he babbled, most likely not used to customers to change so magically fast.

"I could manage. Thank you.", Mum answered with the hint of a smile before turning to Draco. "Well, what do you think?"

"It's classy.", Draco offered. "And elegant."

"It surely is.", Andrew nodded in agreement, who was busy with getting rid of the slutty red dress.

"Indeed, but I'm not sure about its length.", his mother said, turning back to the mirror. "Is it too short?"

"I wouldn't say it's too short.", Draco said. "Even though it's shorter than what you usually wear, of course."

"Well..." She hesitated. "I will think about it."

When she was back inside the changing room, Draco fixed Andrew with a piercing look, the still empty flute in his hand.

"Oh, of course!" Immediately, Andrew was there to pour him more of the Champagne, trying hard not to tremble under his gaze.

Draco couldn't deny that he liked it when people did everything to please him, but it was boring if they didn't bite back at times. Like Longbottom did. He would fill his glass with steady hands, snatch it from him to drink it himself, then order him to open his mouth and tilt his head back, and pour the Champagne from the bottle down his throat.

And maybe he would call him a spoilt brat while doing so and kiss him afterwards when Draco was coughing and his suit was ruined.

Merlin, when did this happen that he was fantasizing about being humiliated by a Gryffindor?

"I think this one is exceptionally beautiful, isn't it, Draco?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his mum, who was now dressed in a lilac dress with long sleeves and a V-neck that ended just beneath her chest, but almost closed considerably higher, covering both shoulders. It was fitted at the waist with a broad piece of gathered cloth. From there it fell in elegant waves to the floor, revealing one pale leg through a slit that reached up to her thigh.

"Wow, this is – Yes, it's absolutely stunning, Mum.", he agreed.

Andrew was so bewitched he couldn't speak and only gape.

"This it is.", she decided with a pleased smile that also pleased Andrew.

"Wonderful! I will lay it out ready at the cash desk for you, Mrs Malfoy.", he said. "Have you decided yet if you will take the black one too?"

Mother gave him a smile and was daring enough to wink at him. "You attended so well to us, Andrew, I will buy it too if you say it also looked good on me."

And with that she had rendered him speechless.

Draco had to gain his attention by clearing his throat.

"I think I come back to your offer, Andrew.", he said when he had it. "I'd like to try that suit you're displaying in the window."

"Oh", Andrew smiled brightly. "The one in bottle green, is it?"

"Yes." Draco nodded, trying hard to be nice to the man, after all he was really trying hard – and getting him worked up wasn't as satisfactory as Draco had imagined it to be.

"Very well, Mr Malfoy, but..." He hesitated. "May I just point out to you that a steel blue suit, perhaps, would emphasize your eyes more?"

Draco couldn't help but snort. "Thank you, you may, but green is my – my favourite colour, so..."

"Ah, of course! You wait here, I will see what I can do."

Draco watched him go and only turned around when he heard his mother leave the changing room.

"Good choice, Mum.", he grinned at her. "They're both pretty."

"Yes, well, let's see when I will wear them.", she sighed and took her seat next to him. "Where's Andrew?"

"He's fetching a suit for me to try."

"Ah." She grinned and looked rather amused about that.

  
  


In the end, Draco could see what Andrew meant about the steel blue and his eyes, so he took both suits, the bottle green one and the one their overeager assistant had brought along anyway.

Each of them with a big bag, they left the shop a few minutes later, and not later than when his mother had payed without blinking with a Muggle money card, Draco knew that she had been planning this trip for a long time.

Only two shops down, Draco decided that his bag was too heavy to carry, so he let the tip of his wand slip out of his sleeve and put a Levitation Charm on it.

When he looked at his mother and thought that she had caught him and didn't approve, she only winked at him and he noticed that her bags also looked much lighter than they should have been.

  
  


Like this it was no problem to browse a few other shops until they had a lunch break at a Muggle café.

To Draco's surprise, the coffee was good and the food too. They both had a wrap with a lot of fresh salad and avocado over which they discussed why every Muggle wanted to own something with a certain family name written all over it.

"Gucci...or this, er...Prada."

Mother shrugged. "From the way everyone is talking about it, they must be something like the Sacred Twenty-Eight of Muggle fashion..."

Draco frowned. "Probably."

When they headed out again, he took the bill so he would find the café again if he wanted to come with his boyfriend.

  
  


First thing after their lunch break, they visited a big shop which must have been the Muggles' apothecary, where Mother went through thousands of colours of lipstick and nail polish while Draco just happened to find what he had been trying to achieve with his yesterday's potions experiment.

He didn't buy it, of course, and only noted down its ingredients.

  
  


Just two stores further down the street, Mother halted in front of a window where slightly darker fashion was displayed. A kind of darker Draco was actually used to.

"Philipp Plein...", his mother read aloud.

"They should move to Knockturn Alley.", Draco snorted.

"Oh Merlin, they've got those, er...those...jumpsuits, it was." She pointed at a rather elegant piece of black clothing, nothing which Draco would have expected to go under that ridiculous name.

"Jumpsuit?", he repeated. "Are you going to jump in it, or what?"

"Nonsense.", his mother huffed.

"So, what then?", he asked. "Are we going in?"

"I'm not sure if..." His mother hesitated. "I'd love to try trousers. Do you think a jumpsuit is too bold?"

Draco chuckled softly. "Common, Mum.", he just tugged her along into the shop. "Let's do something bold."

  
  


His mother looked _incredibly_ good in that black, soft fabric, probably because of her long legs. Its collar was like one of a suit's jacket and was made of velvet, and those stilettos the shop assistant had suggested to wear for the fitting just rounded the whole outfit off perfectly.

Unfortunately, the deal was that they both would do something bold, so if Draco wanted his mother to buy her first jumpsuit, he had to buy his first black leather trousers (because jeans were no option. Really.)

But it only needed his mother mentioning that he, despite the harsh material, looked very thin and fragile in it, because then he was already wondering what Longbottom would say to those trousers, and he was just too curious to find out.

They left with another pair of bags and the decision to find the next dark alley to Apparate back home.

  
  


"This has been a wonderful, exciting day, hasn't it?", his mother still beamed when they said goodnight after dinner.

"Oh yes, it has.", Draco grinned and bent down to kiss her cheek. "I will be off tomorrow after breakfast, okay?"

"Of course.", she smiled. "Give my regards to Mr Longbottom, will you?"

"I will. Good night, Mum."

"Night, my dear."

He hugged her, because he couldn't help it, then went up to his room where his new clothes were awaiting him, still laid out on his bed.

With one swift movement of his wand he took them with him to his walk-in wardrobe, considering if he should wear one of them tomorrow. But, damn, he was pretty sure he wanted to, wasn't he?

But was he brave enough?

  
  


  
  


When Draco stepped out of the shower the next morning after breakfast, it was decided: He had never failed to look good in anything, so who said he couldn't pull off those leather trousers?

Considering what his boyfriend had told him during their romantic dinner about what he liked, Draco would bet he had Longbottom on toast the moment he set eyes on him today.

Maybe he was wrong, but then he still looked pretty damn good.

He had also thought about letting his hair untouched for today, because Longbottom liked it so much.

Actually, the morning after their dinner date, they had had a rather lively discussion about the advantages and disadvantages of charm versus potion regarding one's hair care: although Draco's hair was always soft to the touch (something Longbottom liked) when he used his potion, it looked very slick (something he didn't like), whereas with a charm, it wouldn't look slick (a pro), but would be as hard as a rock (definitely a con).

So Longbottom had spoken up in favour of the natural look, and Draco had seriously considered just stopping wearing his hair slicked back, but then had decided against it.

Why? Well, he was sure that the reason for his boyfriend's weakness for his natural hair was really the fact that he liked to be the one to mess it up. So he had to give him something to mess up.

Didn't mean he couldn't experiment a little with the potion he was using, and: ta-dah, after a bit of research in Witch's Hair (yes, okay, and some Muggle-inspiration from Bond Street), he had managed to brew a new one that was nearly as effective as the old one, but didn't make his hair look too shiny. (The ~~magic~~ Muggle word was _wax_.)

  
  


So it was with smoothed down, but soft and nearly natural looking hair, new steel blue silk shirt and black leather trousers, a cloak for travelling and a bag full of new sale-ready potions, that Draco Apparated in Hogsmeade to knock on Longbottom's door.

It took a few seconds, then his boyfriend opened the door to his shop, wearing jeans, a nicely tight T-shirt and such a beautiful smile that Draco realised how much he had missed him the last two days.

"Hello.", he wanted to say, but at that moment Longbottom's smile vanished and his eyes –

Oh, Merlin, it was kind of cute how Longbottom just couldn't hide on his face what was going on in his brain, but this was just... He was staring at him, shamelessly, with his mouth open and his eyes travelling over his body from head to toe, and this rude look shouldn't have been sending heatwaves through Draco's body.

But it did.

Just as much as it seemed to bring the heat to Longbottom's cheeks.

Draco laughed softly and finally took the one step closer to kiss one of those red cheeks (and to hide from the eyes of passers-by). "Hello, my hero. Can you please tell me how in Salazar's name you managed to hide your plan to kill that snake from the world's most powerful Legilimens?"

Longbottom was bumbling, but his left hand immediately sneaked around Draco's waist. "Ah, er, I, e-er...didn't have a plan maybe that helped, uh, but right now I had the plan to have you – have a picnic with you!, I m-mean, and it's ready and packed, s-so unfortunately..."

Draco bit his lip, because he practically could feel how his boyfriend had to summon all discipline not to let his hand slip down his back any further.

And he had to be strong himself to finally pull away from Longbottom's embrace, because that man smelled so bloody good. Had he just stepped out of the shower, or what?

Draco cleared his throat. "Don't you even think about it, Longbottom. I'm not letting myself be deprived of food you prepared again just because you can't restrain yourself.", he said sternly, actually very convincingly, because he, after all, was a better actor.

"E-er yes, of course!" Longbottom smiled apologetically and bent down to kiss Draco's cheek. "Sorry, you just look so – We can go, I'm ready."

Draco grinned with self-satisfaction. So he _did_ like the hair and the trousers. But wait -

"Picnic?", he repeated questioningly, and that's when he saw that his boyfriend gathered a blanket and a basket from the floor and realised that that meant they had to go out. "W-we...we're going out?"

Longbottom was blinking at him. "Er, yes. That's what a picnic is about, isn't it?"

"W-wait." Draco pushed him back inside. Well, he tried to, but Longbottom had a very firm foothold compared to the old days where he used to trip over everything. "Can't we just...I don't know..."

"Hey", Longbottom interrupted him softly and took his arm. "I thought we're going down to Hogwarts, we could sit at the lake. There's no one until term starts in two weeks, so you don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried!", Draco snapped, but of course he was. Just like his mother he was running away, because he was worried about their stares and whispers...

"Draco, I only meant – "

"No. Sorry." He tried to calm himself and gently patted his boyfriend's shoulders. "It's okay. We can go. If you want to go outside and have a picnic with me, I'd very much like to come with you."

Longbottom gave him a searching look. "Are you sure? Because we can - "

"Yes." Draco nodded with a small smile. "Yes, I'm perfectly sure. Let's just stow the potions I've brought along somewhere safe, then I'm ready to go."

His boyfriend beamed excitedly, and Draco was feeling something good and warm mix with the anxiety inside his stomach.


	12. Firsts and Seconds

"Why do you always carry things around like you're a Muggle?"

The sun was warm on Draco's skin as they walked along the indeed deserted lane that travelled along the Forbidden Forest, leading them from Hogsmeade down to Hogwarts.

Longbottom was carrying the blanket under one arm and the picnic basket in the other hand and Draco was frowning at him even though he didn't mean to make it sound like an insult.

But his boyfriend only grinned this bold grin where only one of his mouth's corners went up. "Well...let's just say...apart from the fact that you can't Levitate every plant around without doing damage to it: if I wasn't doing most of my work 'the Muggle way', you wouldn't have so much to admire."

Draco nearly stumbled over a root and blushed furiously. "I-I don't admire anything!"

Longbottom looked just too smug.

This had to be taken care of.

So Draco acted as if he was pouting now, walking a few feet ahead of his boyfriend only to relax again a few moments later and pretend to enjoy the sun. He stretched, then opened his cloak and pulled it off his shoulders.

Yes, he was strutting, and yes, he was pretty sure he heard Longbottom take a shaky breath behind him.

The next second, though, Draco was caught from behind and lifted off the ground which made him shriek.

"You're doing this on purpose!", Longbottom thought he had seen through him, obviously amused about his fruitless attempts to escape his grip.

"I don't know what you're talking about!", Draco tried to defend himself.

"Oh, you know very well what I mean, my prince.", his boyfriend chuckled and made Draco shriek again when he threw him over his shoulder, so he had a (very bad) excuse to finally grab his butt.

Draco felt his face go hot, and not just because he was dangling head first from Longbottom's shoulder. "Let me down!", he demanded hysterically and since his wand was in his cloak on the ground, he threw his fists against his boyfriend's back, because being seen by someone who was going to look down on him was one thing, but being seen like _this_...? "This is disgraceful! Let me down or I will hex you!" Yes, it was disgraceful that it turned him on.

"You will do what?", Longbottom chuckled and Draco wasn't entirely sure that this had nothing to do with getting his revenge on him.

"I will hex you!", he repeated louder, and to make his point clear he pulled Longbottom's wand out of his jeans pocket and stabbed it at his back.

This caused his boyfriend to jump and nearly drop him.

"Whoah, be careful what you're doing, Long– !"

That's as far as he got, because then there was a wild roar, and when he looked up, he could see Hagrid stomp towards them like a madman, an axe raised over his head.

" 'ang on, Neville, I'm comin' !"

Draco's repeated shriek was the loudest so far and he nearly lost his orientation when Longbottom whirled them around and he suddenly felt ground beneath his feet again.

He couldn't care less that it wasn't graceful at all to stumble over his own feet and cower behind his boyfriend.

"Hagrid, no, stop!", Longbottom shouted, his arms raised. "Stop, he's my friend!"

Hagrid came to a halt in front of them with a confused look and slowly lowered his axe. Draco could finally breathe again.

"Bu'..."

"We were only fooling around. See: here's my wand. Everyone's alright." That, apparently, was Draco's cue to get to his feet and let himself be hugged by his boyfriend.

"Y-yeah. Everything's fine. No harm done.", he managed to say without sounding too scared. Bloody hell, who was he that he had to be scared of that oaf!

"Ah. Er, well, then..."

"Yeah, we were heading to the lake to have a picnic, you see.", Longbottom continued and his bright smile seemed to calm the other one down.

"Aw. A picnic. That's very nice. I, er, was jus' cuttin' down some trees, yeh know, for the er, yeh know..." He swung his arms awkwardly, only remembering the axe when both Draco and his boyfriend looked rather worriedly at it, and hid it behind his back.

He cleared his throat and his eyes fixed on Draco.

"So yeh're friends. That's a surprise. Well, I can't promise ter forgive ye fer what ye've done ter Buckbeak... _Draco_. But Neville's friends are my friends, so..."

The awkwardness didn't end there, but continued when he extended one of his big, dirty hands towards Draco, who reassured himself of Longbottom's hand on his waist before reaching out to shake hands with Hagrid. Sweet Salazar...

"I regret this, er...misunderstanding.", he made himself say and shook his hurting fingers behind his back until his boyfriend caught them and gently stroked them which made Draco relax immediately. With more self-confidence he continued: "Actually, you must know, I'm very proud and easily offended myself, so I guess it was just, er...one stuck-up brat too much."

"Oh, yeah, Hippogriffs can be very stubborn creatures!", Hagrid said with his loud voice and a raised eyebrow to cover his insecurity. Or anger.

But then Longbottom patted Draco's shoulder and gently brushed his fingers against the sensitive skin on his neck while saying: "Just like you.", and suddenly the half-giant smiled.

"Ah, Neville!", he looked like he remembered something. "I've spoken teh Buckbeak, yeh know, and he said he'd do it, carry yeh teh the moon – that is after I've introduced yeh and the two of yeh, er, yeh know, get along."

"Oh." Longbottom looked surprised and Draco didn't understand a word, but his boyfriend nodded politely. "Thanks Hagrid, but I er...think I've found another way."

Hagrid's eyes widened. "Yeh have?"

"Yes, I'll let you know, okay? Now we don't want to keep you from your work and my, er...proud friend will get offended if I let him wait any longer.", he grinned, earning a warning look from Draco that was cut short when Longbottom actually took his hand, entwining their fingers.

Hagrid roared with laughter. "Yeh go have your picnic, lads.", he said.

"Thank you, we'll meet for a glass of Butterbeer or Firewhisky when term starts, okay?"

"Of course, jus' yeh come over, Neville." He shouldered his axe and Draco picked up his coat while Neville took basket and blanket again.

"See you then, Hagrid."

"See yeh! – And good luck with the thing yeh're plannin'. See yeh too, Draco." And with a wink he added: "Neville's a really nice chap. Don' let him bow too low."

While Hagrid stomped back into the forest with a happy hum, Draco stood there, transfixed.

"What's up?", Longbottom asked him.

Draco could barely shut his mouth. "Have you heard that?", he said, "Sexual innuendo! From... _Hagrid_! That's gross!"

His boyfriend only laughed. "Don't be stupid. He didn't mean it that way."

"How did he mean it then?", Draco asked, but Longbottom was already walking on.

"Hey.", Draco caught up with him after checking that his wand was still in his cloak. "And what did he mean by that incomprehensible story about...? Who's gonna carry you where?"

"Buckbeak.", his boyfriend answered. "To the moon."

"To the _moon_?"

Longbottom laughed softly. "You probably don't know the story of The Raging Roland by Ludovico Ariosto. It's an epic poem, written by a Muggle."

Draco frowned. "No, I'm sorry, I probably couldn't have taken Muggle Studies even if I had wanted to. Which I hadn't.", he added.

His boyfriend snorted and softly bumped into him with his shoulder. "Don't be stupid. Luna told me about it. She also told me about Professor Freud. Do you know Freud?"

"Is he German?"

"Austrian. Was. And a Muggle. Never mind."

But now Draco did mind.

"Has he written something interesting, too?", he asked.

"Yes.", Longbottom answered, and Draco couldn't tell if he avoided his gaze on purpose or just admired the way the sun made the castle of Hogwarts, which came into view now, glimmer.

"He described The Human Mind as an iceberg. According to him, it consists of three levels of consciousness: The Conscious Level, with Thoughts and Perceptions. It's the part of the iceberg swimming above the water. Beneath the waves there's the Preconscious Level, with Memories and Stored Knowledge. The biggest part of the iceberg, however, way down in the ocean, is the Unconscious Level."

"Oh." Draco wasn't stupid. He understood. "And...according to this Professor Freud... Is there any chance to bring what is unconscious into the consciousness?"

"There is, yes.", Longbottom nodded. "But nothing that helped. You have to talk a lot with...with your patient, and they have to understand you, so..."

He fell quiet.

Draco was looking for something to say.

"And what about that Hippogriff and the moon?"

That made Longbottom smile, chuckle even, and shake his head.

"It's a stupid fairytale. Roland loses his mind out of unrequited love. An English knight flies around the world on a Hippogriff to find a cure for him, and even to the moon, because everything lost on Earth is said to be found there. I...I've told Hagrid about that story, last term at one of the occasions when...when we were drinking at his place and I...felt kind of sentimental."

Draco was shocked. He was shocked to hear how his boyfriend must feel all the time, that he might have cried, that he was hurt, because some stupid bitch –

But he couldn't say it. He just didn't know how. So he just said what he knew how to say.

"I can't believe you do that. Regularly? Y-you...you get drunk together with that – "

"Careful!", Longbottom snapped and threw him an angry look. "Hagrid's my friend. You don't know him. He's got the purest heart and we...we've both been lonely sometimes."

Now Draco felt even shittier than before. How could he have thought that saying something ugly like this would help?!

"I'm sorry.", he whispered and stopped, his eyes directed to the ground and his hand rubbing his left forearm like it was itching. "I'm...I'm such a... H-how can you like me? Are you sure it's not just sexual attraction? Because if yes, you don't have to do this, you don't even have to prepare food, I could just come over and we – "

He whimpered as Longbottom grabbed his left arm.

"Draco!"

Draco lifted his head, slowly, because he was scared of the way his friend would look at him.

But the way he did rid him of all doubts.

Longbottom turned his hand over, gently, he opened the buttons on his sleeve, and Draco let him. He let him pull up the sleeve to his elbow and kiss the skin underneath.

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice was shaking and barely audible, but his boyfriend smiled at him.

"The sun's got exceptional healing powers. You should let it touch your skin more often. And, it also makes you happy."

Draco swallowed and forced himself to look at his arm. "Sometimes I'm not sure if I've got the right to be happy."

"Everyone has the right to be happy. You too."

And with that, Longbottom took his hand, entwined their fingers like he had done before, and didn't let go as he gathered blanket and basket in one hand now.

"I'm proud to be your boyfriend.", he whispered and pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek as they walked on.

  
  


Longbottom gave him time to pull himself together. They had already made a few yards when he spoke again.

"I've missed you. What have you done the last two days besides being productive and brewing new potions?"

"Er, I've been shopping. With my mum."

"Oh, I've been to Gringotts. Have you been to Diagon Alley? I haven't seen you."

Draco hesitated. "That's because we were shopping in Bond Street."

Longbottom looked like he'd never heard of it. Rightly so.

"It's in Muggle London."

That made his boyfriend grin widely, but he didn't look amused, only surprised. "Seriously? Was it exciting?"

Draco huffed. "Well...you could call it that."

"And did you find something?"

He grinned, looking down his body. "You like this shirt? Andrew said it compliments my eyes."

He had hardly said that before Longbottom gripped his hand tighter.

"Who's Andrew?"

Draco laughed softly. "Muggle. Shop assistant. Not in the least my type."

Longbottom grinned stupidly. "That's why he's still alive."

Draco made a scandalised face. "Are you threatening to kill a Muggle?"

"It doesn't matter that he's a Muggle. Not to me." With a big smile he bent down for a kiss, and Draco closed his eyes to enjoy the soft touch of his lips.

"So..." His boyfriend bit his lip. "Those trousers are Muggle made too?"

"Common" Draco rolled his eyes. "Only Muggles can make something this filthy.", he joked and made Longbottom laugh.

And then he let go of his hand and actually squeezed his butt.

"Sweet Sala– not in public!", he hissed.

Longbottom managed to smile innocently – and instead touched his hair. "And what happened to your hair? You've changed something, haven't you? It looks, oh, and feels so natural, but...hey..." He heard his boyfriend chuckle. "It stays like I put it. What charm is this?"

"No charm.", he said and beat away Longbottom's hand. Quickly he smoothed it back down. "I've just... I know you like it natural, but I don't want to look like an Azkaban escapee or, worse, Harry Potter, so I did a bit of research and found out that Muggles use something they call hair wax for this."

"Oh." Longbottom looked just too smug. "So you put a Muggle product into your hair, because it's better than your potion?"

"I didn't say it's better!", he complained, but added, rather grumpily: "Well, it is better. But I didn't buy it, of course. I perfected my own potion with wax."

"Broomcare wax?"

Draco took a sharp breath. "I'm this close to bringing up my Leg-Locker Curse again..."

Longbottom nudged their noses together. "You wouldn't dare."

Draco grinned challengingly. "Oh, try me."

His boyfriend's answer was a sweet kiss that lasted so long that it made Draco forget entirely that they were on a public road.

Sweet Salazar, he had fallen for an insufferably kind-hearted Gryffindork...

He was so kind, he remembered that Draco wanted to keep their showing of affection in public to a minimum, and simply took his hand again to continue their walk. What a shame...

Draco cleared his throat. "And what have you done since we've last met?"

"Oh, I've visited my parents with Gran. I usually go there every weekend."

"Ah, that's..." Draco swallowed. "I'm sorry, I never know what to say when you – "

His boyfriend gave him a sweet smile. "You don't have to say anything."

Draco nodded. Then, actually, he thought of something. "You haven't been so wrong with that Professor Freud, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. She wrote – To get information out of somebody she...cut off the parts of their brain that connect us to our environment, so they would forget who they were fighting for, who they would return to, who they wanted to be safe."

Hesitantly, he looked at his boyfriend who avoided his gaze.

"Ah. That's why they don't recognise me.", he said very quietly.

Draco bit his lip and pressed Longbottom's hand harder, and after a few moments, he smiled again.

"I've told them about us."

Draco's eyes widened. "You did?"

"Yes. When Gran was at the loo. Dad nodded and Mum smiled a-and shook my hand."

"That's...wonderful, isn't it?", Draco couldn't help but grin.

His friend returned the grin. "I guess so. I also wanted to tell Gran, but I...couldn't. Got scared in the end a-and spilled the tea, er...and broke the cup."

Draco laughed softly and bumped into the taller one. "You're so cute."

Longbottom huffed.

"I haven't told Mum either. But I will.", he said.

"You don't have to."

"I want to.", he continued.

The path took another turn and, finally, there was the wide meadow leading down to the lake at the foot of Hogwarts Castle.

"Merlin's beard!", Draco moaned loudly. "Had I known we would take such a long walk, I would've brought my broom."

"Oh, you still fly?", Longbottom asked.

"Of course."

"Ah, yeah, you've been really good at it, I remember. Also at Quidditch. Well, not as good as Harry..."

Draco puffed himself up. "W-what?! Are you kidding? Potter? That was only luck!" He couldn't believe it! Merlin, he got really emotional about this. He was jealous that his boyfriend thought something like this.

And that bugger was even grinning. "You think so?", he asked. "I mean, in second year, I remember a match against us where the snitch was right behind your ear and you didn't – "

"Yes, because I was distracted!"

"With what?"

"Hating Potter!" He tried to calm down. This was ridiculous. "Obviously. But who are you to judge anyway?"

Longbottom chuckled. "You're right. I like my feet on the ground."

Draco snorted. "Haven't you ever tried it again?"

His boyfriend shook his head. "No. And that's totally fine. I like to watch." He smiled, and Draco had the impression that he looked like there was more to it, but he didn't press.

He was already with his thoughts at their picnic, speculating about what food Longbottom had come up with this time when his friend stopped in his tracks and pulled him to a halt too.

"Oh, wait, that's not...?"

"What?" Irritated, Draco followed Longbottom's gaze. He was watching the greenhouses where – there was actually the shadow of a figure visible who was sneaking around behind the buildings.

"Oh, that bloody old...", Longbottom swore before gently squeezing Draco's hand and then letting him go. "Wait, I'll be right back."

"H-hey, what're you...?" Clueless but curious what got his boyfriend so worked up, he followed him down the hill.

When they reached the smallest of the greenhouses, Longbottom pressed a finger to his lips and Draco nodded.

You could see that there clearly was someone trying to get through one of the windows.

Very quietly, Longbottom crept around the corner, his wand drawn. He stabbed it at the intruder's back with a loud: "Hands up, Professor!"

It was Slughorn, to Draco's surprise, whirling around with hands up, as demanded, and going very pale.

"Merlin's beard, Mr Longbottom! Do you want to scare me to death? I've got an old heart, you know..."

"Oh, then maybe you should stay in your office or take a nice stroll down to Hagrid's, but not try to steal plants from my – the greenhouses.", Longbottom replied without a hint of sympathy. This was fascinating... He was talking to a teacher without trembling or stuttering. On the contrary: he was making Slughorn stutter.

"Ah, w-well, who said I-I was – I mean..."

Longbottom sighed and put away his wand. "I've told you, Professor: You have to ask Professor Sprout or me if you need something for your work. I'll gladly deliver it to your office, but don't go about cutting ingredients on your own, you're doing permanent damage to the plants."

Slughorn smiled sheepishly and nodded. "I'm sorry, Longbottom, I know.", he patted his arm. "Next time I will send you or Pomona a list."

"Yes. That would be good.", Longbottom answered, relieved but still stern.

Draco was so occupied with watching his boyfriend's proud stance that he didn't notice that Slughorn was becoming aware of his presence now until he was spoken to.

"Oh, hello, Mr Malfoy, isn't it?"

Draco only needed two seconds to compose himself. "Yes, hello, Professor Slughorn." He put on a polite smile before approaching the older one and shaking his hand. "How are you?"

"Ah, well, my back...my hip...but I'm alive.", he laughed.

Draco tried to laugh with him which wasn't as difficult, given that his boyfriend was theatrically rolling his eyes behind the professor's back.

"It's nice to see you in such good company.", Slughorn continued.

"I'm glad too.", Draco nodded.

Slughorn hesitated for a second. "Sadly", he said then, "you didn't make it into my Club, even though I saw your potential. Especially in my department, as I recall. But then..."

"I was on the wrong side, wasn't I?", Draco finished his sentence, because he couldn't stand those people who tried to put it politely when telling him he sucked. There was no such way.

Slughorn sighed. "Yes, you were.", he said. "But that has changed, I suppose." He eyed Longbottom who grinned widely.

Draco tried to smile. "Yes."

The professor looked pleased. "Well", he said in an atmosphere of departure. "My apologies again, Mr Longbottom. I promise to stick to the rules from now on."

Longbottom scoffed. "I shall think so, yes."

Slughorn smiled, and Draco could see that there was a glint in his eyes. "Good day, young gentlemen."

"Good day, Professor."

Slowly he departed, both of them watching him as he ponderously walked back to the castle.

Draco shook his head. "Don't believe him. He's a Slytherin."

His boyfriend chuckled. "Never would've crossed my mind."

  
  


A few minutes later, they finally reached the lake where the meadow touched its shore.

Longbottom spread out the blanket under a tree, and Draco was glad for a bit of shadow as he took off his shoes and sat down on the blanket. That's when he realised that his forearm was still bare and that Slughorn must have seen, but his little panic attack was cut short by his boyfriend, who sat down next to him and gently stroked his sensitive skin.

"See, your skin's already warm.", he smiled.

Draco frowned. "I hope I get no sunburn."

"No, we wouldn't want that.", Longbottom said and bent down to kiss him.

"Are you hungry?", he asked him after a few sweet kisses.

"Yes.", Draco whispered, and yes, he was, but he also would have taken something else right now.

His boyfriend chuckled as if he knew, but opened the basket.

There was ice tea, sandwiches, various berries, treacle tart...

"Are you trying to fatten me up?"

"Yes", Longbottom grinned, "And then feed you to Buckbeak."

Draco rolled his eyes. But it was delicious. Everything. And he was really hungry.

"You have to try these.", his boyfriend offered him one grape-shaped, fiery red berry when he just wanted to stop. "Vitis Libifera. They are delicious."

Draco was sure they were as he let him place the berry inside his mouth, but when he bit down on it, he wasn't ready for the explosion of overwhelming sweetness on his tongue.

"Mh!"

"Yeah.", his boyfriend grinned. "I've heard that you can cross them with some herb to get a plant that can cure infertility and even make men get pregnant, but I'm not sure if it's just a joke."

Draco blinked. He had just swallowed. "I'm not getting pregnant now, am I?"

Longbottom looked at him with irritation, then he started to laugh – very un-called for.

"It's not funny! Tell me!"

"You're not getting pregnant. Of course not. Don't be stupid.", his boyfriend chuckled and pulled him into a hug. "Did you seriously believe that?"

Draco pouted. "Of course not..." He cuddled up to Longbottom's chest, and when his boyfriend leaned with his back against the trunk of the tree, his head fell into his lap and he closed his eyes.

Longbottom gently stroked his hair and Draco just lay there and... Merlin, he hadn't felt so relaxed for a long time...

Suddenly, there was something soft pushing against his lips. Another one of those intoxicatingly sweet berries; he could smell it before opening his eyes.

Longbottom was looking down at him with a sweet smile. And Draco opened his mouth, because he just couldn't refuse.

"You've got an incredibly beautiful mouth.", his boyfriend whispered while feeding him the fourth or fifth berry now.

Draco only looked up into his mud-green eyes and licked his lips.

He closed his eyes again when Longbottom's thumb started tracing his bottom lip.

He enjoyed the soft touch for a few minutes, then his friend's finger was suddenly gone and only one hand rested on his head instead.

When Draco blinked to see what was going on, Longbottom's face was turned towards the lake.

"What's up?", he asked quietly.

"I've been thinking about your offer."

"Oh." Oh, that was... Draco tried not to let it show, but he wasn't so relaxed anymore now. "And?"

"I've tried to imagine what it will be like...having parents. I mean, for real, and...I don't know, but it kind of scares me. They missed 20 years of my life, we don't even know each other, what – what if we don't get along, what if they don't like me – ?"

"Of course they will like you. Hey..." Draco sat up to cup his boyfriend's cheek with one hand. "If my parents had seen me the last time when I was a baby – or even when I was ten, it doesn't matter – do you think they would know me right now? Do you think my father will still know me if he ever comes back from Azkaban? There's this thing called growing up. Life. And it changes us. You'd have enough time to get to know each other again."

Longbottom hesitated, but Draco could see how the look in his eyes softened. "You...you're probably right."

"Yeah, I am.", Draco smiled and let his hand drop from his boyfriend's cheek to his chest.

Longbottom nodded. His eyes wandered across the lake again, then they came back to him.

"Is it safe?"

Draco held his breath.

"The spell, I mean. Could...could they die?"

This was the question he had been dreading. Because he had no answer to it. And so he didn't say anything and just lowered his gaze.

His boyfriend turned away, and when Draco looked at him again, he saw that he was fighting back tears.

"No!" Merlin, he couldn't stand him looking so sad. "I mean yes. I don't know. I seriously don't know. I-it... All I can tell you is that it didn't happen with the birds. It probably hurt, but none of them died the times I used the curse backwards. But I don't want to..."

"Promise me anything, I know.", Longbottom finished his sentence. He sighed heavily, then looked at him again and gently cupped his cheek.

"Promise me something else, then.", he said.

"What?"

"That you'll stay with me, no matter whether it'll work or not or what will happen: you'll stay with me."

Draco swallowed. "I...I'd love to, but..."

Longbottom silenced him with a finger that he gently pressed against his lips.

"There's no but. Only in people's heads. Not in my world."

Draco was spellbound. He was so madly in love with this man, he had to question his sanity. Before he knew what he was doing, he wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him.

Longbottom caught him, held him, and kissed him back until neither of them had any air left.

"I love you.", Draco said, for the first time in his life, and Neville Longbottom looked as if it meant the world to him.

"I love you too.", he breathed, and together they sank onto the blanket. "I love you so much, Draco..."

Draco gasped into their next kiss, his boyfriend's body on top of his, and everything got very heated, very quickly.

There was much too little space on the blanket with all the food and the plates, and as much as he enjoyed the sun and the fresh air, he didn't want to be disturbed by Slughorn. Or Hagrid. Or anyone, for Merlin's sake.

But he wanted Longbottom. He wanted him right now. He just had to find out if his boyfriend wanted the same.

"Mmh...hey...", he panted between kisses. "I want – " No, wait! Don't make it sound like you're desperate.

"I was wondering..." Make it sound like a generous offer. Like you could easily do without it, but are just too polite not to suggest it. "if you would like to" For _his_ sake. "fuck me?"

His friend made a strangled sound, swore, babbled, and finally flung his arms around him. "Hold tight, okay?"

Draco knew what was coming, so he did.

  
  


They landed on Longbottom's bed, without picnic, without blanket, and without shoes. Just one apple had found its way along.

Draco took it and turned it in his hand. "Wow. You didn't even splinch it."

His boyfriend stole the apple from his hand and put it on the bedside table. "My magic is quite reliable, when I've got my mind set on something."

"Oh, what's that?"

"You. In my bed.", he whispered, their faces only an inch apart.

"But not naked, apparently, or I would've lost my clothes on the way."

Longbottom grinned and let one hand travel up his inner thigh. "No. I like those trousers."

Draco gasped, then took his boyfriend by the hair and kissed him senseless. He struggled with his cloak which he had grabbed before Apparating, but finally managed to push it off the bed. He could hear his wand clattering on the wooden floor, but couldn't care less, because Longbottom was already sucking his neck.

"Y-you don't learn, do you?", he complained.

His boyfriend only chuckled. "Who's moaning and throwing his head back?"

"I don't know...what you're talking ab– ahh...", Draco moaned and helplessly closed his eyes, because it felt just too good. How Longbottom was moving his body against his, how he gave him goosebumps with every lick over his sensitive skin. How his hands caught his wrists every time he tried to touch him too.

"No. I want to undress you first.", he whispered, "Want to see your beautiful body."

Draco closed his eyes and tried to breathe when Longbottom began to open his shirt, but he was feeling how close he was to him, his breath against his cheek, and when he opened his eyes again and saw how his boyfriend looked at him, he just had to crane his neck and kiss him.

Neither of them broke the kiss until Longbottom tore the hundreds of Galleons worth shirt out of Draco's tight trousers.

"Shit, this was expensive!"

"S-sorry."

Draco snorted. Sweet Salazar, he'd let him rip it apart if he just didn't stop looking at him like that...

"It's okay.", he whispered and sat up, moving into Longbottom's personal space until he was practically in his lap. He let his boyfriend shove the silk shirt off his shoulders and smiled to see that he did it very carefully now. He even folded it and put it at the end of the bed.

"Common, you too.", Draco demanded. He didn't beg, but he had a nice boyfriend, who listened and pulled off his T-shirt, too.

That landed carelessly on the floor, then Draco was pushed back onto the mattress and hissed when their naked chests touched. Longbottom was so heavy on top of him...he loved it.

His lips were hot, they were restless, and apparently, they had the mission to kiss and suck every inch of his naked skin they could reach.

It felt so incredibly good to be worshipped like this, to be loved, to be wanted... Draco moaned, whimpered, arched his back to get any friction between them as Longbottom was mercilessly sucking and pinching his already pink nipples.

"You're so hard...", his boyfriend slurred, his tongue busy.

"Oh, you're o-one to talk.", Draco managed to reply.

The next second he gasped, because Longbottom pressed his hand against his crotch and squeezed. "But it's twice as hot to feel it through those trousers..."

Draco couldn't protest. He couldn't even stop his hips from grinding into the big hand.

His boyfriend laughed breathlessly. "You're a needy little prince."

"Not little!", he was complaining in his head, but all he managed to articulate was a breathless: "Yess...!"

He gasped when his boyfriend suddenly turned him around so he was lying on his stomach, and whimpered with pleasure when he felt the taller one press himself against him from behind.

"Merlin, you are a real sight in those trousers...", Longbottom groaned into his ear, making Draco moan. "It makes your skin look even paler a-and your hair even more silver. Draco..."

Draco was clutching onto the pillow for support while his boyfriend trailed hungry kisses down his back until he reached his behind. Then he pulled down the trousers, slowly and with noises of pleasure, and Draco was shocked when his kisses continued and transformed into licks at places he couldn't even –

"F-fuck, Longbottom, w-what're you do– !" His shaky voice broke when he could feel the hot tongue slide into him and move inside his very core.

He was glad to have the pillow, because maybe it didn't make his moans sound as desperate as they were.

"You like that?", his boyfriend slurred. Draco answered with a whimpering that told him how much he regretted that his tongue was still occupied with speaking at all.

But as soon as his boyfriend had rid himself of his jeans, it was back, and a few minutes later it was followed by a finger, slick with sap from some plant, which Longbottom obviously kept in his bedside table.

"You little pervert.", Draco spat to say something mean for a change, but the next deep push with the digit rendered him speechless again.

Sweet Salazar, and the first skilful finger was followed by a second one, and a third, and Draco's head was spinning that this was finally becoming real.

"E-er, you want to turn around?", Longbottom asked him, his breath dancing over Draco's sweaty neck, making him shiver with pleasure.

"N-no.", he managed to answer. No, this was safer if the other one couldn't see his face.

"Okay. Tell me if I hurt you.", his boyfriend whispered and kissed him right behind the ear before Draco could hear him hold his breath.

He caught his too as he felt the hot tip push against his entrance until he opened up and it slipped in.

"Fuck, D-Draco, are you alright?"

He released the air with a shaky, long-dragged moan and couldn't help but lift his hips to push into that overwhelming feeling.

His boyfriend moaned and bit his shoulder and sank into him, until he was pressed flat against him from behind and there was no inch between them.

"Draco...bloody...! Draco, y-you're so tight... Ha-ave you done this before?"

"No.", he admitted. He had had multiple things up his arse, but not the real thing yet. And the real thing felt just brilliant.

"O-okay, I'm gonna go slow.", his friend whispered, and Draco was silently screaming: "No!"

Because slow was sweet, and stimulating, and bewitching, but it was just unbearable. Longbottom was so big, there was no time when he didn't feel him, when he didn't graze some sensitive nerve that made him shudder and gasp, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

"You alright?"

Draco groaned in frustration. "Y-you're asking that f-for the umpteenth time."

His boyfriend halted, still half-way buried inside of him. "Well, I just care about you.", he replied and Draco could hear that this had been the wrong thing to say. Again.

He sighed. "Have _you_ done this before?"

Longbottom hesitated. "Yes.", he finally replied, making something tighten in Draco's chest. "But not with a man."

Draco choked on his spit. "Oh my... Who?", he finally managed to croak.

"Er, Luna.", was the answer. "In summer, a-after the War, we...we spent a few weeks together and, er...experimented. But we're just friends. Always been. We were only curious."

Draco closed his eyes and lay still.

"You've killed the mood.", he murmured.

He practically could hear Longbottom frown. "You asked."

"Yeah, but it's your fault that I'm still able to talk, isn't it?"

His friend froze. Wonderful. Another wrong thing to say.

Draco already felt guilty the next second and only gasped when his boyfriend pulled out. He tried to think of something to say to patch things up again, but was cut short by Longbottom's sharp: "Turn around."

Draco was so surprised by that sudden authority in his voice that he forgot how to move. When he finally remembered, his boyfriend was already turning him around at legs and arms until he had him pinned down at his wrists above his head, his legs spread vulnerably and their faces only inches apart.

A shiver went through Draco's body, because the second Longbottom looked at him, he could see that he wasn't angry. He only looked determined and madly in love.

Draco moaned as he bent down to kiss him hungrily and whimpered into their kiss as he pushed back inside.

He pushed in slow but deep and started to move again, and when Draco only moaned in pleasure and there was no resistance, he went faster.

Yes... Fuck, _yes_...! Draco tried to hold back his moans and the heat that was creeping to his face, because Longbottom was now able to see everything, but it felt incredible. Mind-blowing. Sweet Salazar, he wanted more of that.

So he was completely put off his stroke when his boyfriend, suddenly and without warning, halted again.

He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning in frustration and dared to blink, only to see that Longbottom _was_ angry now.

"Why don't you tell me what you like?", he asked, sounding hurt.

Despite the waves of pleasure his boyfriend's hardening grip around his wrists sent to his groin, Draco couldn't help but snarl: "As if I enjoyed being manhandled by you, Longbottom."

It took less than a second and Longbottom pulled out again.

Draco tried hard, he really did, but the pathetic whimper left his throat anyway and – oh, Merlin – his face went scarlet when he realised that his hole was actually quivering.

"Tell me what you enjoy, then.", his boyfriend demanded and managed to sound sweet and understanding. Fuck him. "And I will do it. What do you want me to do, Draco?"

Draco grit his teeth. His back was arching without permission and his legs sneaked around his boyfriend's waist, craving his touch. "Put your bloody cock back inside me and fuck me!"

Longbottom looked disappointed. "That sounds rude.", he said, "As if you had to bully yourself into it. Are you sure you want this at all?", he asked, and to Draco's horror he didn't ask it with real concern but with a teasing smile.

He was seeing right through him. Probably since the beginning.

And on top of that, he bent down to suck his neck, his hips not moving an inch, his fingers pressing into Draco's skin when he tried to wriggle free of his grip, probably leaving real bruises; _certainly_ on his neck.

Draco wanted to tell him to sod off so badly, but all that left his lips was a desperate: "Please...!", and as the gates were opened, a flood followed: "I want you, I want you to take me, own me, please, L- _Neville_ , please...!"

It was the right thing to say, because it felt right, because he got a sweet and deep kiss, because his boyfriend pushed back inside him, filled him, loved him.

He went fast and deep, and Draco couldn't cope with how much he enjoyed this.

"Yes...y-ah..."

"Say my name.", his friend whispered hoarsely into his ear while Draco clung to him with arms and legs. "Say it again."

"Neville", he moaned. "Neville...!"

Neville made a content sound. "Draco", he breathed between thrusts, "Draco..."

Draco was going crazy. He needed to touch himself, he needed to come –

"Not yet.", whispered his boyfriend and gently pushed away his hand. Instead he wrapped one arm around his back, lifting his hips from the mattress so he could pound even deeper into him, making Draco see stars and lose all his wits.

It was a blur of touches, kisses, whispers, and the most intense experience outside of (and probably even including) magic Draco had ever had.

In the end, he didn't know how many times he must have told Neville how much he loved him, but he noticed when his boyfriend's demeanour changed into something uncoordinated and clumsy, with desperate thrusts and sweet bumbling.

"Merlin, I-I can't – I'm g-gonna – Draco, I'm gonna c-come, please can I come inside you?"

Draco felt his whole body spasm, he heard Neville moan, and then he came from the next deep thrust and the feeling of being filled by him.

  
  


Neville's lips brushed his cheek, and when Draco slowly turned his head to look at him, he saw that he was smiling.

"Don't look so smug.", he said, noticing how hoarse his voice sounded, but his big smile said something else entirely.

"Who's looking smug.", Neville teased; Draco just leaned in to kiss him.

"Mmhh...", his boyfriend sighed and parted their lips with a wet sound. "You should see yourself. Your hair... You look so... _ruined_."

"Sweet Salazar, don't mention it.", Draco groaned. "I must look horrible!"

"Beautiful.", Neville disagreed. "That's the right word."

His smile faded and suddenly he was regarding Draco with a rather serious look.

"Are we finished now with pretending we are too proud to give ourselves to someone like this?"

Draco sheepishly lowered his gaze. "It's not that I'm too proud."

"What then?", Neville asked softly.

"I...was scared, okay?", he admitted. "That someone can make me feel l-like this, like I want...nothing but surrender myself to...to you."

He heard his boyfriend hesitate. "Because it's me?", he asked, then.

"No!", Draco assured him immediately. "Because it's anyone."

Neville smiled tentatively. "But I'm not anyone.", he whispered, cupping Draco's cheek with his hand. "I take care of you, I promise. Whenever you want to let go, I'll catch you."

Draco felt his chest and face go warm. "You're a disgustingly sweet romantic."

His boyfriend chuckled. "I love you too.", he said and kissed him.

Draco wanted more of that kiss, but Neville gently pulled away.

"I'll go fetch our stuff we left at the lake."

"Oh." Draco had already forgotten about that.

He licked his lips as he watched his boyfriend get up to his knees, all naked and sweaty and with Draco's marks of pleasure on his belly.

"Er, maybe I should...get cleaned up before I go."

"Yeah", Draco snorted. "Maybe you should." He reached out for the wand on the bedside table and directed it at his boyfriend's chest while slowly sitting up.

Neville looked at him with big eyes and Draco could see him swallow. "It's mine."

"Oh. Sorry. I guess?"

"No, it's...okay."

Draco smiled. He smoothed down his hair with his left hand, then he cleaned up his boyfriend with a swift movement of the wand. Which responded to him just as it should.

"How does it feel?", Neville asked, looking intrigued.

"Nice.", Draco said and turned it around between his fingers to quickly hand it back to its rightful owner who was just the same: soft, playful, but with a strong will. Nothing that he was.

Neville took it with a small smile, then got dressed – with a new pair of underpants as Draco noticed with a smirk – and Apparated with a zap.

Draco sank back into the bed and sighed. He was thinking about getting cleaned up and dressed too, but his leather trousers seemed much too uncomfortable now and the funny feeling that there was still a part of Neville left inside of him just felt too...interesting.

So he pointed his right hand in the direction of Neville's wardrobe and decidedly said: " _Accio_ Sleepy-dragon-T-shirt!"

He had already put it on together with his cleaned pants and was just taking a bite from that apple he had snatched from the bedside table, when Neville Apparated back, blanket and basket under his arms – and also their shoes.

"Oh.", he smiled at the sight of him. "I see, you've made yourself comfortable. And already have it off with the next one."

Draco grinned cheekily. "Yeah, I like dragons and apples. Thank Merlin, you've saved the food. We can have what's left later."

Neville chuckled. "Of course we can."

  
  


But first, they moved on to the sofa where they cuddled and kissed until Draco ended up sideways on Neville's lap and could kiss his neck while enjoying the gentle caresses on his own back.

"I think I'll cook something.", Neville suddenly stated.

"But we've still got leftovers."

"That's not enough. Is it?", he added as if he wasn't sure.

Draco laughed softly. "I don't know. How much do you normally eat?"

Neville sighed. "Too much since I eat in your company."

Draco grinned and kissed him right behind his ear. "Then that's not too much."

He felt his boyfriend relax and wanted to close his eyes again, but then he saw a tiny white line on Neville's head, hidden under his hair.

"Is that a scar?", he asked, carefully tracing it with his finger.

"Er, yes. From the Battle."

Draco grimaced.

"But it's really small compared to the blood that was streaming down my whole face.", he laughed, and Draco had to smile too.

"You hero.", he whispered dramatically and kissed the spot gently.

His boyfriend went rigid.

"Still hate it being called a hero?"

"Still hate it. But it's far less bad when you say it."

Draco snorted.

The next moment, Neville caught his hand to stop him from stroking his hair and waited until Draco finally looked at him. "Hey", he said softly, and Draco was a bit surprised that he looked so serious all of a sudden. "I've been thinking."

"Oh. When?"

He shook his head. "Just now. Just came to my mind."

Draco nodded. "Okay. What were you thinking about?"

"That you should practice the spell on a human being before we go to my parents."

Draco stared at Neville. He hadn't expected it to be this kind of topic.

"And you should practice it on someone who knows her curse, who remembers how it feels, just to check if you got it right."

Oh no. He knew where this was –

"You don't - "

"Please, Draco. I'd feel so much safer about that whole thing if you practiced it on me first."

Draco shook his head before he was able to bring himself to speak. "N-no. No, Neville, I can't...I can't hurt you."

His boyfriend took both of his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze while he didn't end their eye contact for a second.

"Yes, you can do it. You know why you have to do it. And you know I can take it. Please."

Draco lowered his gaze and didn't know what to say. He knew that Neville was right, that it was safer to test it, but...

"Draco."

He swallowed. Sweet Salazar, he was going to go to hell.

"You...you would have to come to my dungeon. It's an... a spell not everyone would approve of, and I don't know if they are tracking me or something."

Neville looked relieved. "Alright. When do you want me to be there?"

"Er, maybe...tomorrow...for lunch?"

He even smiled. "Will I have lunch with you and your mum?"

Draco looked at him in surprise. "Would you want that?"

Neville shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well..." He had to smile a little, too. "Then it's settled. You come over for lunch tomorrow."

Neville's smile broke into a grin. "That means you'll stay tonight?"

Draco bent down to kiss him. "Mmmh, yeah, I guess."

  
  


They had the leftovers of their picnic while Neville told him how he had started his shop and got hold of this small, but nice flat. They joked about him opening an apothecary next door, and when Neville told him that the barber shop actually looked like it had been closed for a while now and he could ask the villagers for the owner's contacts, Draco wasn't so sure about it only being a joke anymore.

In the evening, Neville really did cook again, and Draco was enjoying to watch him.

"Wow. It looks like you really know what you're doing there."

Neville snorted, but Draco could see that he was blushing slightly at that compliment. Maybe he should try that more often. Being nice to him.

  
  


Later, they took a bath in this ridiculously small thing his boyfriend called a bathtub, but its smallness held the advantage that he had to rest in Neville's arms, practically in his lap, and could enjoy his boyfriend's desperate (and obviously vain) attempt to stay unaffected by his squirming.

"Are you getting hard, darling?", he asked him, not hiding the clear amusement in his voice.

"M-Merlin, Draco, who wouldn't?", Neville replied, managing to sound annoyed.

Draco grinned. "I really appreciate your pointing out the obvious, namely that I am a very attractive being who turns more heads than a Veela, but you can be assured that I would only accept one cock prodding my behind..." He slowly turned around and eyed Neville with a smile while his right hand dipped under the layer of foam and found said prodding organ. "And that's yours."

Neville gasped and looked so hot when he closed his eyes for a second that Draco decided to continue.

He got on his knees between his boyfriend's legs, as little space as there was, and bent down to press a lovely kiss onto his wet lips.

Draco realised immediately that Neville wanted more and this fast, but he didn't give in; instead he drew his head back, if only an inch, when things got too demanding – and did the same with his fingers under water.

It took Neville a minute, then he seemed to have realised who was going to be in charge now, and finally relaxed under Draco's touch and kisses.

"There we go", Draco smiled, pleased with himself, and gave his boyfriend a dedicated tug.

"You've done enough for me today, darling.", he whispered between kisses. "You've cooked for me...you've taken me out..." He had to chuckle quietly when he thought about Neville's meals and gently pressed his teeth against his throat. "Merlin, your food? I could bath in it", he added.

Neville's reaction to that confession was interesting: He moaned, probably from the sensation of the teeth on his throat, and his cheeks went red.

Just like when Draco had told him that he thought of his arrangement with Sprout as a very clever business idea during his first visit at the shop.

Or when he had confessed that he had enjoyed every bit of their first sexual encounter that morning.

Maybe Neville was enjoying hearing that he's doing great. Maybe that hadn't happened often enough in the past. _Surely_ it hadn't.

That's why he continued: "Have you noticed", his right thumb drawing small circles on his sensitive tip, "how careful and gentle you handle your plants? Just like you handle me?"

Neville shuddered and tried to pull Draco closer, but Draco allowed only a deeper kiss and nothing else while he totally liked the hands on his own body.

"Your hands", he whispered against his boyfriend's lips. "Your fingers... I always want them on me. In me. You're so damn skilled with them."

Neville moaned, and when Draco kissed his cheek, he could feel how hot it was.

He could definitely feel how he shot up with his hips to rub himself harder against Draco's hand.

And Draco wasn't one to deny him that. On the contrary, he began to touch him in earnest now, feeling him pulsate under his fingers and thrust into his hand at every new nice thing he had to tell him.

"Draco...!"

"Yes. And how you fucked me.", he whispered between kisses against wet lips. "Sweet Salazar, I definitely want to do that again. Want to feel you again, Neville. You absolutely knew what you were doing – S-sorry for not telling you what I wanted at first. But then... It was so incredibly good. _You_ were so incredibly good. I was losing my mind, but you said you'd catch me, so please...Neville...darling...let me catch you too. Please. I love you. Let me - "

No further begging on his part was needed; Neville came into his hand, one of his own in Draco's hair and his head thrown back like he was a bloody sex god.

It took him a few seconds to catch his breath and come back to his senses again. Draco needed those seconds too, to realise that he had meant everything he'd said. That he obviously adored someone for what he had done and what he was, who wasn't himself. And not only since yesterday.

"Draco..." There was so much love for him in Neville's eyes and in the soft kiss that it made Draco whimper with joy.

He threw himself at his boyfriend and held him as closely and tightly he could.

"The moment you stepped forward in that courtyard." He swallowed, but he just _had_ to tell him. "The moment you said...you said you'd join him when hell freezes over and that he was wrong, wrong...! That moment you became my hero. You became everything I knew I could never have then, because I realised what a stupid coward I was, always hiding behind my stupid father, never standing up to the people that mattered!"

"Draco..."

"No!" He didn't tolerate any interruptions. He might stop and pretend he'd never meant it in the first place. Instead he took Neville's face between his hands and looked at him, blinking away a tear he hadn't noticed forming before. "I really love you for that. For showing me that there is a choice and a way a-and that...that even someone like me could, maybe, one day, do something good if I'm just brave enough to go through with it and live with the consequences. Like you did."

Neville smiled at him, only a bit sadly, and reached out to gently touch Draco's left arm.

"There are enough consequences you've got to live with. You wouldn't have to take more for me.", he said, and Draco knew he meant those scars from the book, but he himself was thinking about something else entirely, even if he didn't know if his fears were well-founded.

"But I will.", he just replied and cut off any protest with a gentle kiss. "Because I love you."

His boyfriend smiled happily, fortunately not understanding what he was talking about. "I love you too."

  
  


Later, when Draco went to sleep, it wasn't a dreamless one, but the dreams were only good ones. For the first time in forever.


	13. Tying Up Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting there...!  
> They are getting there.
> 
> Hope you all still enjoy reading this story :)

Draco had not decided to do this on a whim, he had planned it, but still it was so difficult.

He found his mother in their small sitting room when he arrived, where she was reading the newspaper with a cup of tea and biscuits.

"Ah, Draco, darling, there you are.", she smiled at him and offered him a biscuit. "Do you want one? I'm afraid they're not as good as Tessy's, but they're edible."

"Er...thank you. I thought you don't buy biscuits."

Mum snickered. "No, I don't. Believe it or not: I've made them myself since it's Tessy's day off."

Draco blinked. "Tessy's day off?"

"Yes, that's what you do nowadays: you give your house-elves a day off." She sighed and put down the paper. "And I'm terribly bored, to be honest. I'm thinking about finding myself a job."

Draco was only here for a few minutes and already thrown off balance.

"Er, that's...fine, Mum. I just..."

"Yes, you wanted something.", his mother nodded and it wasn't a question. She made space for him on the sofa she was sitting on and looked at him expectantly.

Draco swallowed, then sat down next to her.

"I see, you're wearing your new trousers.", she smiled and patted his thigh. "Was Longbottom outraged?"

Draco tried to say something, but all he did was open his mouth and turn red.

"Mum, I... _Sweet Salazar_!", he hissed and hid his face behind his hands. "Why is this so difficult? I...I'm shaking, for Merlin's sake, b-but all I want to tell you is...is just that I'm..."

He winced when his mother touched him, but relaxed when she pulled him into an embrace.

"That I'm in love.", he whispered.

He didn't really think she would hate him. Lecture him perhaps, yes, about what was wrong with that, but...hadn't she told him she never wanted anything but him to be happy?

"Oh, that's wonderful, Draco.", he heard her say, and there it dawned on him that he maybe hadn't been precise enough.

"Mum. No", he said and gently pushed her away to look at her. "You don't understand."

She looked alarmed. "Isn't he loving you back? Has he hurt you, Draco?"

Draco held his breath. "He?"

Now she was confused. "Aren't we talking about Longbottom?"

Draco heard himself exhale shakily and felt a small smile creep onto his lips. "Yes. Yes, we are. A-and no, he loves me too. H-he...he's perfect."

Mum made a relieved gesture. "Thank Merlin it's him, after all he's a pure-blood."

Draco's eyebrows shot up and his mother let him stare and move his mouth like a fish for three seconds, then she burst into laughter.

"Mum!" Draco couldn't decide if he should be outraged or laugh with her until both of them had tears in their eyes.

"Oh, Draco.", his mother smiled and hugged him again. "I'm so glad you've found someone. And someone so decent!"

"Yes, me too.", he grinned. "Er, uhm, I hope it's okay if he comes over for lunch today?"

"Of course!", Mum assured enthusiastically. Then her face fell. "Morgana's knickers, I will have to cook myself."

"Mum.", he warned her, "Language."

  
  


"So...so you...knew?", Draco asked while peeling the potatoes with the spell his mother had just taught him.

"That you'd fall in love with a man?", she said. "Yes. I think so. I even tried to prepare your father for it."

Draco looked at her in surprise. "Seriously? W-what...what did he...?"

She sighed. "Let's say... We wouldn't have your boyfriend over for lunch so soon."

Draco grumbled. Of course. "Thank Merlin, he's not here.", he said, and only realised that he hadn't been quite tactful when the vegetables next to him plopped down into the pot making the water spray in his direction.

"Sorry", Mum mumbled and Draco felt guilty immediately.

"N-no, I'm sorry. You...you miss him, right?"

She sighed and put her wand down for a moment. "To be honest: Yes, I do. Constantly. I even miss his bickering." Her smile was sad, and Draco put a hand on her back to gently stroke her there.

"Maybe I'm just selfish and...and can't stand it to be alone." She sighed. "Or I might as well still love him."

"Of course you do.", Draco tried to calm her. He knew that, in some very weird and complicated way, he still loved him too. "And that's okay."

She nodded and had to dry her eyes with the back of her hand. That's when Draco saw a blotch of red on the sleeve of her white blouse.

"Oh shit, what's that?"

"Ah..." His mother looked at it critically. "I've cut myself in the garden. I thought I had it patched up sufficiently."

Draco hesitated for a moment, but then he would never be able to tell if his mother lied. "Well, obviously not. Shall I get you something?"

"Yes, please."

He went upstairs to fetch the ointment from his room. He just couldn't help but take a detour to the library and look for the diary.

But it was still there, where he had put it, as if no one had touched it since.

Right.

He hurried downstairs again, and they finished preparing lunch without further incidents.

  
  


Neville was punctual this time. He looked cute and nervous and very handsome in that grey suit he was wearing.

"I-is...is this too much?", he asked as they were walking down the path leading to the front door. "I can take off the bow." Nervously, he fingered the dark blue bow tie he was wearing.

Draco smiled. "No, you look perfect. There isn't an occasion where you could be overdressed at Malfoy Manor."

"Not even in your bed?", Neville had the audacity to ask despite all his anxious trembling.

Draco rolled his eyes and hooked himself to his boyfriend's arm. "No. Not even in my bed.", he whispered. "I'd love to welcome you there with that bow." _Nothing_ but that bow, he thought, but didn't say, because then they reached the stairs.

"Oh, and", he remembered to tell him. "Mum knows about us."

"Oh", Neville made, blushing slightly.

"And she approves. So relax.", Draco demanded, giving Neville's shoulders a rub before he pushed him inside.

"Mr Longbottom!", he was greeted immediately by Draco's mother who was wearing a black and green dress that totally justified Neville's bow. "I'm so glad to meet you finally."

"Hello Mrs Malfoy. Er, I mean: Good afternoon.", Neville stammered and fumbled with the inner pocket of his suit jacket. "I-I've brought some flowers. They've only arrived last week a-and since I reckon you like peonies..." Finally he managed to pull something out of his pocket that unfolded to a pot plant of silvery glittering peonies and shoved it into Draco's mother's direction.

Her soft laugh was interrupted by a surprised gasp and she took them with a bright smile. "Thank you, they look marvellous! I've never seen something so beautiful before. Where did you say you got them?"

"E-er a friend of mine sent them to me.", Neville answered and Draco could see how he relaxed a bit, seeing how well his gift was received and being able to natter away about plants. "Luna Lovegood. She's on holiday on Madagascar, and that's where she's found those flowers at the bed of a river. They look a lot like peonies, so I thought..."

"Yes, they're fantastic. Thank you."

Neville beamed and Draco laughed softly.

That's when his boyfriend turned to him. "Oh, I've got some for you as well, of course.", he said and rummaged in his other pocket to pull out a bunch of sunflowers he gently handed to him. "Since I still don't know your favourite flower a-and we had such a lovely time out in the sun..."

Draco grinned and got on his toes to press a soft kiss to Neville's cheek. "Thank you."

His mother smiled. "Let's go through or the food might get cold."

She led them to their family dining room where she and Draco had set the table for three so she could sit at its end, Draco and Neville next to her to her left and right.

"Unfortunately, it's our house-elf's free day.", Mum explained after having summoned a vase for the sunflowers. "So you have to put up with Draco's and my cooking."

"Oh, I bet it's just as delicious.", Neville replied politely before throwing Draco a look that told him that his boyfriend was rather surprised about the fact that he could cook at all.

Mum filled their plates with careful movements of her wand while Neville licked his lips, looking for something to say, as Draco could tell.

"I, er, cook too. I mean, at Gran's we've got a house-elf as well, but Rudy's never been too reliable with that matter, so, er, I've already learned a few things there."

"That's an understatement.", Draco threw in. "His cooking _and_ baking skills are at house-elf level."

"Is that true?", Mother grinned and wandered with her eyes between them, making both of them blush a little.

"Er..."

"Yes, he's extraordinarily good.", Draco had to confirm anyway, because he enjoyed making Neville all flustered because of the compliments he gave him.

"This pie is very good too, Mrs Malfoy.", Neville tried to distract from that fact and looked down on his plate. "I like it."

"Oh, thank you.", Mother smiled. "Since you've mentioned her: How's your grandmother? The last time I've met her must have been...four years ago, oh my."

"Ah, she's well, thank you.", Neville answered with a crooked smile. "Not getting old at all."

Draco absentmindedly nodded at that, thinking feverishly about how to change the subject before his mother could ask about Neville's parents and make this whole thing as awkward as it could get.

But his mother wasn't stupid.

"You don't live with her anymore, but in Hogsmeade, on your own, I presume, from what Draco has told me.", she said.

"Ah, yes, just above my shop."

"That's convenient.", Mum nodded.

Draco thought so too.

"Unfortunately, he's got no garden.", he said instead. "But the Hogwarts greenhouses aren't far."

"Oh, what a shame.", Mother replied, "And we've got this huge estate and don't know what to do with it..."

"It doesn't look like that to me.", Neville chuckled. "You've got a beautiful garden there, from what I've seen so far."

Now Mother looked flattered. "Would you like a tour after lunch?", she asked after a moment of hesitation.

Neville's eyes sparked up and he opened his mouth in awe. "Y-yes, of course, Mrs Malfoy! That's very kind of you, Mrs Malfoy!"

Draco and his mother laughed softly.

"Call me Narcissa.", she said and Draco's smile grew wider.

"Oh, then, I'm Neville."

"Nice to have you here with us, Neville."

  
  


And so, after lunch, they went outside for a tour through their gardens.

It was fun for Draco to watch how his boyfriend lost all his shyness and set off to great monologues about plants and flowers in particular. And how he had an answer or advise for every question his mother asked him about this bush and that flower.

"And here's our rose garden.", she led them proudly through an archway formed by hedges into what was Draco's favourite part of their garden, because of the smell and the pretty colours.

"That's pretty.", Neville gushed. "I haven't got so much space at Hogwarts for ornamental plants, which is a shame, because I really like their looks."

"Yes, they're a joy to the eye.", Mother agreed while Draco was already where he liked it best: next to the fountain with the elegant lady, his nose gently touching one of the dark red roses. He closed his eyes and took in its smell that always made him relax and feel good.

"And over there, the free space", his mother already continued, politely turning her back to them as Draco looked up from the rose again, only to find Neville's eyes fixed on him with an intense stare.

"That's where we would put up the marquee for our summer festivities."

Draco winked with a smile, nudging his head in his mother's direction until Neville registered that he shouldn't stare at him but listen to her instead.

"Oh, er...that's nice.", he said clumsily, following her around the hedge.

Draco took a moment and another breath of that soothing smell, then he went after them.

Now they were talking about Neville's dancing skills, an information his mother was not too embarrassed to admit to have gathered from the Daily Prophet. Neville was embarrassed enough for all three of them.

"Oh, er, that, er, I..."

"Draco likes to dance too, don't you?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes, I do. But I can understand why you wouldn't want to dance for everyone across the whole country at their breakfast tables."

Neville cleared his throat. "I...I'm not that good, actually. I just love the feeling a-and the music."

"We shall judge that when we see it.", his mother said. "Maybe next summer?"

Neville shuffled his feet. "Yeah. I'd love to.", he said, throwing Draco a glance, because he already knew from his stories that none of these summer festivities took place anymore.

_"Maybe she wasn't inviting the right people then."_

Maybe she wasn't.

"You still have to tell me how to treat the African silver peonies.", his mother went on, and Neville willingly explained to her in every detail how she had to bath them, prune them, fertilise them..., while they were walking back to the house.

"So, as I've understood, you two have to attend to some business now.", she said when back in the entrance hall.

"That's right, Mother.", Draco nodded.

"Well", she said and extended a hand towards Neville who, to Draco's surprise, didn't shake it but kissed it. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Neville. You should come here more often."

"I'd love to, yeah.", he beamed, "Thank you for your invitation."

"Thank you for coming.", she smiled before turning to Draco. "Will you be here for dinner?", she asked him.

"Er, I...I guess.", he nodded.

"Well, if you won't: I'll have an early breakfast tomorrow so I can meet my sister for lunch at that nice Muggle café in Bond Street."

Draco had to grin. "That's nice. Give my regards to her, Mum."

"I will."

They watched his mother retreat, then Draco turned to his boyfriend who looked so pretty when he was happy.

"That went well.", he grinned, wiping his apparently sweaty hands on his trousers.

"It did, yes.", Draco laughed, very relieved himself, and came over to hug Neville and kiss him gently.

"Your Mum's really nice."

"You sound like you didn't expect that."

"Yeah, I kind of expected her to be...colder."

"Well, she can be.", Draco had to admit, "If she doesn't like you."

Neville grinned.

Draco took him by the collar of his suit. "You don't have to do this, you know.", he blurted.

Neville looked at him in surprise, then seemed to realise what he was getting at.

"I know, but I want to.", he said softly, "Draco, you promised. Please."

Draco sighed. He hesitated, then took Neville's hand. "Follow me, then."

  
  


They entered his room in the dungeons where Neville walked over to the chaise longue without being told to. He shrugged out of his jacket und opened his bow tie, and maybe that would have looked entirely sexy and arousing if Draco hadn't been very aware of what they were going to do.

His sleeves rolled up, Neville took two steps back so he was standing in the middle of the carpet. "I think I'm gonna lie down if that's okay.", he said and Draco lost it.

"N-Neville, I can't." He shook his head, his hands clenched into fists, the disgust about what was expected of him making his stomach sick. "I really – can't do this to you."

Neville came over to him and gently took his hands into his. "Draco, look at me.", he said. He _demanded_.

And Draco complied.

When he did, he was almost shocked by the look in his boyfriend's eyes. It was _that_ look. That fierce look that could cut the air. That spoke of someone who had made a choice and wouldn't back down from it anymore.

"Draco, do it. We both know you have to, or everything you suffered through was pointless." He squeezed Draco's hands tightly and didn't blink once. "You know I can take it, so _do it_."

Draco knew. Of course he did. Yes, yes, he had to do it, the risk would be too great if he didn't test it first, but – It still cost him a lot of will power to let go of Neville's hands and reach for his wand.

He pushed the other one away, rather violently to his own surprise, and didn't look at him anymore.

"Lie down.", he ordered him, sounding angry as he pointed his wand at him.

Angry was good. He hated that man for having so much control over him that he was ready to do anything for him. Even this.

The other one followed his orders without protest. He lay down on the carpet and stretched out his limbs.

Draco still didn't look at his face. He looked everywhere but his face.

"Watch out.", he still warned him and gave him five seconds to back out.

But he didn't.

And Draco did neither.

" _Crucio_!"

Draco tried to block out the screaming, but it was hard. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done. He concentrated on the wand movement, stabbed his wand forward like a sword and lifted his out-stretched arm higher. Higher. Higher.

When the counting at the back of his head reached the number five, he stopped immediately, flipping his wand to the side and letting the spell break.

That's when he looked at his face again and realised what he had just done to the man he loved.

"Neville!" He fell to his knees next to him and cupped his cheeks with his hands.

Neville was looking up at him, _seeing_ him. And smiled. "That was brilliant.", he breathed.

Draco let his forehead fall against his boyfriend's and shook. "I'm so sorry", he whispered, caressing his face, kissing his cheek, his forehead, his eyes... "I didn't want to hurt you, Neville. Really. I'm so sorry."

"I'm okay.", Neville answered softly, and Draco only realised he was crying when his boyfriend gently brushed away the tears from his cheeks. "I'm alright. Promise."

Draco nodded, taking a shaky breath, trying to compose himself.

"I really can't believe you've..." Neville shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he slowly sat up. "When I think about how your Cruciatus felt like when you tried to impress Umbridge... And now you really can do it."

"So it feels like hers?", Draco had to know. "Am I doing it right?"

His friend nodded. "Yes. You just have to – I remember how it started at the back of my head, radiating to the spine, and then there was another pain in my forehead, both wandering up and up. You've got that right. Only, I remember that in the end, both pains met at the middle like...like my head was splitting."

"I know", Draco said. "But I've been too scared I...I would leave permanent damage."

Neville took his hand in which he still clutched his wand. "So you know how to do that?"

"Yes. I do."

Neville looked at him.

"No..."

"Yes."

Draco pushed him back down to the floor and stood up abruptly.

"You stupid wanker! You can't expect that from me! You can't – "

He swallowed. Gripped his wand tighter and gritted his teeth.

" _Crucio_!"

He stabbed him again, in the back of his head, transporting the pain through his whole spine, then at his forehead. Lifting his arm, he sawed through his head, from both ends, higher.

When did he have to stop?

Further.

When was it enough?

Deeper.

"Yes! Right! Riiiiight!"

Draco was so shocked to hear actual words in Neville's screams that he lost his concentration and the spell broke from alone.

His wand slipped to the floor and when he reached Neville's side, his boyfriend was already trying to get up, rubbing his head.

"Neville! I'm sorry! Are you alright? Are you there?"

"Yes. Yes, it's just been bloody awful.", his boyfriend mumbled and Draco had to help him sit up.

When he felt tears welling up in his eyes again, Neville already hugged him close and stroked his head. "You're incredible. Thank you for doing this for me.", he whispered.

"Was it – ?"

"It was perfect. I can't wait to introduce you to my parents."

Draco hesitated, but when he looked up, Neville was smiling at him.

"Mum said she'll be gone tomorrow morning."

"Yes", his boyfriend nodded, his eyes shining with...anticipation? Hope? "Meet me at my place as soon as she's gone."

Draco swallowed, but promised to be there.

He had chosen to do this, out of his own free will. So he would, no matter the consequences.


	14. The Curse and the Surface

They were entering St Mungo's through the department store after having Apparated at a small alley in London.

Draco had been here the last time when he had been a child. (Normally, they had had a Healer come to their house, but this had been a particularly nasty rash, so his parents had thought it safer to bring him here.)

Neville, on the other hand, seemed to call this place his second home.

"Morning, Helen, don't bother, I know my way.", he waved off the plump blond Welcome Witch at the reception who looked like she was under a lot of stress.

"No gifts?", she asked.

"No gifts. Only my friend coming with me.", Neville replied and put an arm around Draco's shoulders, emphasizing the word 'friend' and leading him through the crowdy room.

"It's on the fourth floor.", he said.

Draco didn't say anything. He only fastened his cloak around his body and looked at the floor, because he couldn't shake off the feeling of a dozen eyes on him, throwing him sceptical looks and despising glances.

When they reached the 'Ward 49', as it read on a sign, Neville opened the door with an _Alohomora_.

"Are we breaking in?", Draco whispered.

His boyfriend looked amused. "No, it's kept closed for the patients' safety. So they don't wander off and hurt themselves."

"Oh." Draco felt stupid.

They passed a sitting area with smaller tables and sofas, then longer tables for taking the meals together.

Neville stopped in front of the third door to the right.

"We're there.", he said, his hand on the door-handle.

Draco grabbed his free hand and squeezed it. "What if they don't like me?"

That made his boyfriend smile for some reason, and he gently squeezed his hand back. "I'm sure they will."

With that he opened the door and they entered a small round room with two beds and a window looking out over the backyard.

In those beds, there were sitting two people: a tall man with short brown, wavy hair who was reading and wouldn't be disturbed, and a small woman in a checked shirt with thick dark hair and a small mouth. She looked up from the origami she was folding and Draco was looking into a clouded version of Neville's eyes on her face.

"Hello, Mum.", Neville greeted her and went over to hug her.

She hugged him back, smiling and looking at him. But not seeing him.

"Mum, I've brought my boyfriend with me.", he continued and even though Neville gestured him to come over, Draco couldn't.

He couldn't move, he didn't dare. He felt like an intruder, like he was unworthy, guilty.

"Neville", he croaked and had to clear his throat. "I...I can't do this. I can't hurt them."

"You can.", Neville insisted, "You've done it to me and you love me."

A desperate whimper left Draco's throat and he hid his face in the palms of his hands.

"Fine.", he said, his voice high with panic. "Fine, I'll do it." And hurt them without producing any effect. Or worse: kill them. _Or disappoint you_ , he was thinking. Because he had been promising something he couldn't keep.

"Just lock that bloody door with some charms, will you.", Draco demanded and tried to pull himself together. "From the way everyone's been looking at me, I say we have about five more minutes until someone comes to arrest me. So make it some powerful ones."

"Stop that.", his boyfriend laughed it off, but Draco was damn serious.

Neville got up, and even though his mother looked very interested in his wand, she didn't freak out while Neville gave a demonstration of his top five Repelling Charms he certainly had learned to protect their hiding place during the War.

That was a good thing, so everyone kept quiet as Draco pulled out his wand now too.

"You better start with Mum", Neville said, "I've been told she could do some pretty amazing wandless magic, but I think I'd have more difficulties keeping Dad off if he sees what we do to her and tries to strangle us or something."

Draco snorted.

"What?", Neville asked.

"I can't believe how you can make jokes in a situation like this."

His boyfriend shrugged with a crooked smile. "Keeps me from panicking."

Draco blinked. "Ah, yes.", he nodded. "Very well." He lifted his wand and pointed it at Mrs Longbottom, who turned her head to look at him. Draco avoided to look back. "You may want to hold her down so...so she doesn't hurt herself. The bed's quite small."

Neville did. "Mum, I have to hold your arms, okay?", he said, "We want to try to cure you, and it might hurt a bit, but I'm here and it's going to be okay."

Draco tried to cut out those words, because they were a total lie.

"Can I start?", he snapped, impatient, nervous.

"Yes.", Neville answered. "Please."

Draco closed his eyes and braced himself.

This was it. This was what he had worked towards the last months. He would be undoing what she had done. Put things right. Like he should have done years ago.

When he opened his eyes again, he was focused. Focused on Uthric Black's formula, on her composition which he went through in his head from back to forth; on her words.

"What if it doesn't work?", he asked with a voice that sounded cold to his own ears.

From the corner of his eye he could see that Neville was smiling anyway. "Then at least we've tried."

Draco nodded. Gripped his wand tightly and –

" _Crucio_!"

The red light flashed through the room, hit her body and made her scream. It was loud and shrill and nothing comparable to what Draco had heard before.

She was thrashing about, making it difficult for Neville to hold onto her, and it sounded as if she was starting to cry, but Draco forced himself to listen to his aunt's words: don't rush, drag it out. That had never worked if he'd tried to make it quick. _Drag it out_.

"Frank!", she was suddenly screaming after what felt like an eternity, and Draco's heart skipped a beat. "Frank!" again and again, and then she made a gasp, like someone who was coming back to the surface after a very long dive.

Draco broke the spell and stood there, shaking, as he could see the look on Neville's face, still holding on tightly to his mother, who...who blinked, moaned in pain, mumbled.

"Bloody hell, where am I? What happened, who – ?"

And then looked at her son. And Draco was bloody sure she saw him this time.

The instance she opened her mouth again, there was muffled banging against the door and some shouts from outside.

"Brilliant.", Draco snorted. "Common!", he hissed and pointed his wand now at Mr Longbottom, who had put away his book and looked slightly alarmed but didn't dare move.

"I'm sorry, Mum, I'm right back.", Neville assured her and gently let go of her to rush over to his father and grab his arms. "Okay, ready."

Draco cut out the noises from outside and focused. He knew now he could do this. He knew how.

" _Crucio_!"

The moment the spell hit him, he screamed, but he was not the only one.

"What are you doing?!", Mrs Longbottom cried and fell out of her bed, stumbling towards Draco.

"Mum, no!", Neville yelled and managed to catch her wrist, what left his father more freedom to hit and struggle.

His mother struggled too. "You bloody bastards! Leave him alone!"

"No Mum, he's only helping!"

A particular powerful spell hit the door and bounced off it with a loud bang.

"Shut up!", Draco screamed. He had to concentrate. Focus. Do this. Drag it out.

"Frank!"

"Alice!"

"Yes, go on!"

"Alice! A- !"

The name, the gasp, and Draco felt his knees give in.

He sank against the wall next to the door and nearly dropped his wand.

Mrs Longbottom had thrown herself at her husband who was cradling her face and staring at her in disbelief.

"Alice...Alice what...?"

"Good Godric, you're alright."

Both of them only realised that they weren't alone when Neville started to sob. He was pressing a hand against his mouth and cried madly.

The sound tugged at Draco's heart, but he smiled when he realised that it was out of incomprehensible joy.

And then the questions on his parents' faces dissolved and his mother was the first to quietly ask: "N...Neville?"

Neville nodded and threw himself into their arms.

Draco would have loved to vanish on the spot, but when he tried, he noticed that Apparating at St Mungo's wasn't possible.

So he had to stand there and intrude on this precious moment.

On the other side of the door, it had gotten suspiciously quiet.

"But – Neville, why are you - ? What are we - ?"

"We're at St Mungo's. You've been here for nearly 19 years a-after...after an attack – "

"Of Death Eaters.", his mother remembered and exchanged a quick look with her husband who seemed to be very awake now too and suddenly caught sight of Draco.

In no second his whole posture straightened and he put himself protectively between Draco and his family.

"Who are you?"

"Malfoy.", Mrs Longbottom whispered, feeling for her wand but not finding it anywhere.

"No, he's not – " Neville began, but was cut off by a loud bang from outside against the door that made all of them jump.

Draco took a deep breath and straightened his back. "I'm Draco Malfoy, nephew of Bellatrix Lestrange and former Death Eater."

"And my boyfriend.", Neville cut in quickly. "He's brought you back. He found out what Bellatrix has done to you and made it un – "

Another bang and the charms on the door gave in, making it crack open with a flash of light and a lot of smoke. Three Aurors burst into the room and one that came jumping through the window disarmed Draco even before he could see clearly again.

The witch caught his wand and another one grabbed him from behind, binding his hands with a spell behind his back.

"No! _Expelliarmus_!", Neville yelled but the Auror had been faster and Neville's wand clattered to the floor.

"It's really Draco Malfoy.", the man behind him informed his colleagues and gave Draco's arm a twist that made him hiss in pain.

"Don't you hurt him!", Neville raged and was stupid enough to try and throw himself at the Auror. He hadn't even crossed the room when a Stunning Spell hit him and he fell to the floor like a plank.

"We have to check this one on an Imperius Curse."

Of course they had.

While one of the Aurors bombarded Neville's parents with questions about their wellbeing, making them stammer and seem as confused as they've been just a few minutes ago, the witch that had caught Draco's wand cast a _Prior Incantato_ and as a faint echo of red light shot from it, she yelled triumphantly: "His last spell was a Cruciatus!"

"Runs in the family, huh?", the brute behind him snarled and Draco had to bite back a "Fuck off!" He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

"Seems like you're going to be reunited with Daddy sooner than later."

That made Draco laugh, actually. He hadn't thought about that.

He managed to throw Neville one last look and just wished he had told him more often that he loved him, then he was dragged out of the room.

He knew he could feel devastated, shattered, but instead he only felt relief and a kind of pride. He had gone through with it. He had made that choice and now he had succeeded. He had made her work undone, made it right. And alone the tears of joy on Neville's face and the looks in his parents' eyes were enough to keep him going. Through hell if necessary.

"Bloody hell, he's gone mental.", one of the Aurors dragging him through the Hospital gasped.

Oh, why, because he was grinning with joy?

Yes, maybe he had.

"Let's get him straight to the Ministry so we can bring him in front of the Wizengamot and then lock him away."

Draco closed his eyes when he was pushed out onto the London streets and felt the Apparition tug at his body.


	15. It Is Our Choices

Of course it wasn't that easy.

The wave of joy and pride had carried him on his way to the Ministry, where he had been able to brush off all those stares and looks people had thrown at him as if they had known that the day would come where three Aurors were leading an arrested Draco Malfoy to one of the custody cells.

But five minutes here in that small room, wandless, with no light and a cold that was slowly seeping through his clothes were enough to deprive him from all hope, and you didn't even need a Dementor for that.

He wouldn't see Neville ever again. An Unforgivable Curse meant a lifelong sentence. He had to live the rest of his life without Neville. Draco wasn't sure if he was strong enough for that.

There was a loud, metal click echoing through his cell and one second later, he was blinded by light as his cell door was opened.

"Get up.", he was ordered and so he got up from the floor, steadying himself with his back against the wall.

Draco blinked and his eyes accustomed themselves to the light. It was a bulky guard, pointing his wand at him.

"Common, I haven't got all day.", he snapped. "And I wouldn't try anything foolish."

Draco smiled. Oh, he had, but it had been a complete success.

The wizard bound his arms behind his back with a spell and pushed him forward.

"Is it already my trial?", he asked, because he was rather surprised of how quickly things went at the Ministry. "Can I see my mother one more time before you send me away?"

The man snorted. "What did you think? They gonna keep you lot longer than necessary? You're going to be interrogated, cause that's procedure, and then right to the Wizengamot with you."

Draco gritted his teeth. He hadn't thought it would go this fast. He wasn't sure what he had thought. He was only sure that he didn't want to talk to someone. What should he say? Would they believe him?

"Here we are.", the man stopped, a considerable number of corners further, at the end of a corridor. "You better behave.", he snarled before opening the door and shoving him inside.

It was an interrogation room, furnished in a spartan fashion with a desk, one chair at each end and a Self-Writing Quill at the ready for documentation.

"Sit down.", he ordered him and Draco sat, while the man stood there and guarded him. He didn't bother freeing his hands from the spell and Draco didn't ask him to.

That's how they waited for nearly five minutes until, finally, the door opened and the witch that had taken his wand entered the room.

"Good day, Mr Malfoy."

Draco only lifted one corner of his mouth, even if he couldn't claim that it had been a bad day entirely.

He just didn't like her smile. It told him that she wanted to be the one to have arrested and convicted Draco Malfoy. _Finally_. Now every child was safe again.

He didn't want to give her the satisfaction and thought about how he best explained to her what his real intentions had been without losing his dignity in front of her when she already started bombarding him with enervating questions and the quill began to move.

"Your full name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, is that right?"

"Yes."

"Do you deny that you were one of Voldemort's followers branded with his Dark Mark?"

Draco hesitated. What was she trying to achieve with that? "No."

"Do you still take part in the officially banned organisation of the so-called Death Eaters?"

" _No_."

The witch huffed.

Draco couldn't believe it. She must be holding a grudge against him – him or Voldemort, or the War – and was now trying to get back at him for something he hadn't even –

"Will you show us your arm, please."

It wasn't a question, and for the first time since Draco had entered the room, he winced and started to panic.

As he didn't react, the burly guard suddenly grabbed his left arm, while the witch turned over a few pages of the documents she had lying in front of her, deliberately ignoring the brutal way the guy was tearing open his cuff when suddenly the door opened without any knock and coming in was –

Draco shot to his feet. "Potter!" He would never admit it aloud, but Draco had never been so relieved to see that man.

"Sit _down_!", the guard threw him back into his chair with an angry growl, but left his arm alone at least.

"Hello, Draco.", Potter greeted him with a friendly my arse smile before shaking hands with his colleague. "Hello, Meredith."

"Hello, Mr Potter.", the woman smiled at him rather confusedly. "I was just interrogating Mr Malfoy here, who is responsible for – "

"That's why I'm here.", Potter interrupted her and shot Draco a quick look, who was eyeing his ex-schoolmate with suspicion. "The Patronus of Frank Longbottom came to me and told me you were holding Mr Malfoy on the basis of false accusations."

Draco raised both eyebrows.

"Well, not quite.", the witch replied immediately and stood up to now be eye to eye with Potter. "He has aimed a Cruciatus at him. The evidence is in this wand.", she held out Draco's wand.

Potter didn't waver. "Yes, to cure him, he said."

Draco was speechless. So was the witch, at least for a few seconds.

"But Frank Longbottom is insane, he's incapable of conjuring a Pa- "

"You can't fake a Patronus.", Potter cut in with a frown on his forehead that had appeared at the mentioning of the word 'insane'. "Arthur Weasley was with me and he knows Frank's Patronus and even recognised his voice."

The witch opened her mouth. "But..."

Potter patted her arm. "Thank you, Meredith, I'm taking over from here."

Oh, if looks could kill... "As you wish, Mr Potter."

"Do I have a say in this?", Draco asked with a raised eyebrow as he could see where this was going.

"No.", Potter answered without even looking at him. "Oh, er, you've got his wand, right?", he talked to the witch instead and didn't wait for an answer. "Can I have it, please?" He held out his hand and even Draco realised that it wasn't a question.

The witch hesitated, surely because all of this was against some Auror protocol, but even at the Ministry Potter was Potter and got away with everything. Of course she handed him Draco's wand and then left.

And of course the burly brute left too, when Potter asked him if he could talk to Draco in private pretty please.

  
  


As soon as they were alone, Potter casually sat down on the table much too close to Draco's personal space, Draco's wand in his hands, and addressed him with what could be described as a shy smile if you squinted.

"Still the special treatment everywhere you go, Potter?", he couldn't help but remark.

"Still the bad boy, Malfoy?", Potter countered.

Draco huffed.

The next second, he winced as Potter took out his own wand and flicked a quick silent spell in his direction.

Only too late did he realise that he was just ending the spell binding his hands behind his back.

Potter, of course, grinned. "Or not so bad after all, Draco?"

He only growled at Potter and hated himself for that pathetic reaction.

"Well, to answer your question", Potter continued and turned his back to Draco when he got up from the table. He _untied him_ and then _turned his back to him_. Had he come here only to humiliate him?

"It's all agreed with Kingsley. I mean, the Minister.", Potter was fast to add while sitting down on the chair across the table, but it was already too late. He had given Draco something to pounce on.

"Of course, you're only in your first year of – "

"Second."

" – training and already giving orders to fully trained Aurors because your boss calls you Harry."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. It's only for your own good that I'm here."

Draco crossed his arms, fixing Potter with a look that told him that the fooling around was over now.

"Let's not pretend we both don't know why you're here: It gives you great satisfaction to be the one to send me to Azkaban, Potter."

Potter's smile faded and he mirrored Draco's stern look. "Do you really think so?"

He didn't. At least he hoped so. But he couldn't be sure. "Common, you can't deny that."

Potter sighed, a sound that made Draco uncomfortable and aggressive. "On the contrary", he said. "It would feel like losing, because I was the one to vouch for you in the first place, remember?"

Draco snorted. He refused to look at the other man. "You mean losing a hopeless cause?", he spat.

"You're not hopeless, Draco.", Potter replied, sounding soft and warm, but what, coming from Neville, would have made him relax, only made him moan in frustration now.

"You bloody Gryffindors and your stupid refusal to give up...!"

He could practically _sense_ Potter smile, so he might as well look at him.

"So...Draco, tell me.", he began anew. "What happened?"

Draco considered his options. He had not many and the most prominent one would include making him depend on Potter's mercy again. But the wish to be reunited with Neville was just too strong...

Draco threw the quill a quick glance. "Is this an official interrogation?"

"Yes", Potter answered, but pointed his wand at the quill the next second and made it freeze immediately. "But we can turn it into a private one if you tell me the whole truth.", he offered and Potter damn right knew how to get you.

"There is a diary that's been in the possession of the House of Black for centuries, that only a true Black can read through the sacrifice of blood, and that I don't want anyone else to know about.", he said, fixing Potter with a stern look, who nodded, so he went on.

"My mother and I inherited it from aunt Bellatrix, and I had the idea that if I learned from her what she had done to the Longbottoms, I could undo it. So I studied the curse and tried it on birds."

"On birds?", Potter raised his eyebrows. "For how long?"

Draco shrugged. "A month? I'm not sure anymore. Why is this of importance?"

"Because you were throwing Unforgivable Curses for a _month_ and nobody noticed?!"

Draco snorted. He couldn't believe it. "So you _are_ tracking me?"

Potter looked like he had said something he shouldn't have. Then he looked annoyed. "Only the Unforgivables. It wasn't my idea, okay? I told them you'd behave." He shook his head as if he needed that to focus again. "So how did you get away with it?"

Draco had half a mind to not say anything anymore; on the other hand, he was in a state where he already couldn't care less.

"The dungeon. Remember?"

Potter's eyes widened. "Ah. Yeah. And then you...you just walked in there on the Longbottoms and...did it?"

Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Of course not. I've asked Neville for his permission."

" _Neville_?", Potter repeated, and it took Draco three seconds to realise he probably was confused about him using his given name. When he did, Potter was already trying to pretend he had never said that. "Er, I, sorry, I mean... So you... Did it work? You healed them, right?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. I hope so. There wasn't so much time to check.", he added with a frown.

Potter nodded, looking absent-minded for a moment. Then his eyes focused on Draco again.

"I need that book.", he said.

Draco smiled wearily. "Of course you do."

"No", Potter replied. "I'm being serious, Draco. I need that diary if I'm supposed to get you out of here."

Draco huffed. "I didn't beg you for help, did I?"

Potter sighed. "You were right, okay?", he admitted. "This breaks with possibly a dozen Ministry regulations, so I better have something interesting to present to the Minister other than that I've just saved a good friend's arse."

Draco raised one eyebrow. " _Good friend_?"

Potter only looked at him patiently.

Draco leaned across the table. "You didn't even know the book existed before you came here."

"Well, I plan things on my way. That's how it's always worked best for me."

Draco snorted. Yeah, that sounded just like him.

"Common!", Potter complained, "You didn't think you'll get away with using a Cruciatus in a public place either, did you? I don't see where that's more thought out."

That made Draco angry. "Normally, I like to plan ahead", he snapped, "But you don't know what it was like to only get to the point where I could read that bloody awful book, let alone cast that curse on something without throwing up, alright?!"

"Alright." Potter held his hands up. "I'm sorry, okay? B-but look: Don't you think the book would be safer at the Ministry?"

Draco couldn't believe it. "Have you even listened, Potter? Only Blacks can get access – "

"Yes, with your blood. You know people have their ways, Draco."

Draco hesitated. "This is a diary. I don't want family secrets to be open for the public."

"We'll handle it with discretion, I promise.", Potter made another promise he couldn't keep. "Look, I will argue that we'll only keep it as long as it takes to study it. See if there's something else important written there we better should know. Maybe even if there are other ways to heal people. And when that's done, your family will get it back, alright?"

Draco sighed. There wasn't a single documentation of this conversation and he could always act differently later. So he gave in.

"Alright. But I have to talk to my mother first, because, strictly speaking, she was the one to inherit it."

Potter nodded. "Of course. Yes." He seemed relieved. "Thank you."

Draco was still taken aback that Potter was the one to thank _him_ as his ex-schoolmate suddenly jumped to his feet. "Then let's go."

"Go?"

Potter smiled. Draco would even say he was positively excited. "Yes, I need to see for myself if you really managed to – to heal them, I can't believe that! Shall we?"

Draco carefully got up from the chair. He was confused. "You...want us to go back to St Mungo's?" Did that mean he was discharged now?

"Yeah, common! Oh", Potter remembered and held out Draco's wand. "You might want that back. Even though it still seems to recognise me.", he added with a small smile.

Draco cleared his throat. He hesitantly closed his fingers around his wand's handle, but Potter didn't let go at the tip. Instead he looked at the dark, thin wood with a frown.

"It's a powerful wand, isn't it? With it, I deflected Riddle's final curse, and now it cured two people where everyone else had given up all hope..."

Yes, Draco wanted to say, and it had bound Neville's legs together with a curse and, years later, transformed glasses into wine glasses with which he and Neville had toasted to trust. And it had touched Neville's naked chest.

Draco gave it a determined tug to free it from Potter's hand and put it away, safely, into his cloak.

That moment, loud banging was coming from the corridor.

In no second, Potter had drawn his own wand and jumped outside.

Draco was not sure if he would be shot down immediately if he took out his too, so he stayed behind, unarmed, and only carefully risked a look around the door.

What he saw there, made his heart skip a beat: There was Neville, his cloak torn and his general appearance dishevelled, a dozen house-elves clutching to him, two even dangling from his raised arm. In his hand, he was holding a torn-out towel rack.

"Harry!", he screamed in surprise. "Did you get Dad's Patronus? You got to help me, they got Dra– "

"Neville!" If Draco didn't know that he was in love with that man yet, he had to notice now. He'd never been so relieved in his life.

"Get off him, it's alright, he won't harm anyone.", Potter addressed the elves, when Draco was already rushing past him, only to be met by Neville halfway.

"Draco!"

He let himself be pulled close, be kissed, held tight between those strong arms, so tight Neville might actually crush him. He buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend's neck, inhaled his soothing smell of earth and grass and sweat, and neither did he hear Potter make a strangled sound of utter surprise nor the Ministry employees who had chased Neville jump out of the lift.

"E-er, step back, it's okay, Draco Malfoy's discharged, a-and that's my friend Neville. Neville, you might want to put that down or they will call you The Towel Rack of Gryffindor from now on..."

"Oh." Neville blushed cutely, that's what Draco did notice, and sheepishly handed the rack over to Potter. "Sorry. But they wouldn't tell me where they kept Draco, so I had to – "

"It's okay.", Potter patted his shoulder.

"So we... Should we give Mr Longbottom back his wand?", one of the Ministry employees asked.

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, you better do. He's lethal without a wand, you should have known that."

  
  


  
  


"So, you two are...?"

"We're dating, yeah.", Neville grinned from ear to ear as the three of them were taking the lift at St Mungo's.

"Oh, that's...wonderful, Neville!"

Draco would be amused about the look on Potter's face if he wasn't too busy beaming about the fact that Neville hadn't let go of his hand since they had left the Ministry. Sweet Salazar, he wanted to throw Potter out of the moving lift only to have some time alone with his boyfriend to tell and show him how much he loved him and how happy he was to be with him again.

But this was more important. Neville was so excited. He dragged them down the corridor and they entered the room of his parents where they were both sitting on one bed and jumped to their feet the moment they entered.

"Neville!"

"Are you alright, son?"

"Oh, and you managed to bring back Draco, thank Merlin!"

Draco was speechless as Alice Longbottom reached out to take his hand and shook it, smiling at him. "We thank you for what you have done for us. Neville's explained. We're really grateful."

Draco felt shame creep up his neck and he couldn't look into her eyes. "Please don't, I've only tried to make right where my own family wronged."

"You couldn't have been much older than Neville when it happened.", Mr Longbottom replied. "I don't see where you'd be to blame."

"Oh", Mrs Longbottom made suddenly and even Draco turned around to look at Potter who was watching them from a small distance, just where he had stood this morning when he hadn't wanted to intrude on the reunion of this family.

"You're Harry Potter.", Mr Longbottom said with wide brown eyes.

Potter smiled hesitantly. "Yes, I am."

"You...you look just like James.", he said.

"But you've got Lily's eyes.", his wife added.

"Yeah, I know.", Potter said, still smiling, and Draco noticed that it was a sad smile. He didn't have this possibility, he would never have, not even the smallest hope...

"I, er, think we should all sit down with some biscuits, maybe, and answer a few questions, don't you think?", Neville was the one to suggest and transfer their conversation to one of the tables at the front of the ward where they were joined by two Healers and – biscuits.

  
  


Potter left after a few minutes, having clarified that Draco wasn't posing a threat to anyone and explained to Neville's hugely relieved parents that Riddle had returned but was dead for good now.

Neville and Draco left almost two hours later, and while Neville's parents would stay at St Mungo's to run a few check-ups and slowly get them accustomed to, well, taking part in life again, Neville was heading to his grandmother to bring her the happy news.

Draco went home, but promised to come over to his boyfriend's in the evening.

  
  


  
  


When Draco entered the Manor, his mother was already back and very relieved to see him.

"Draco, where have you been?"

"We've visited Neville's parents.", he answered and sat down next to her on the sofa. He would tell her the whole truth soon. Maybe tomorrow, after a good night's sleep.

"Oh. Are they alright?"

"Yes.", Draco smiled. "They are. How was your meeting with your sister?", he asked and his smile broadened as he noticed that she was wearing her new black jumpsuit.

Mother sighed with a content smile. "Alright. For a start. Very alright."

"That's marvellous."

"She brought her little grandson along.", Mum added, "Of course she did, can't leave him alone, can she? He's only three."

"Oh." Draco had totally forgotten about his...second cousin, it was, wasn't it? "What...what was his name again?"

"Teddy." Mum had to grin. "He's very fond of your boyfriend. Dromeda said he's his favourite Chocolate Frog Card. I guess he likes the sword."

Draco laughed softly. "I'm sure he does."

"Can I talk to you about something important, Draco?"

His mother had taken his hand and changed from casual and smiling to dead serious in a second.

Draco blinked in confusion. "O-of course you can. Yes. What is it?"

She slowly got up for a moment and pulled out an opened book she had apparently been sitting on.

Draco did a double take, but it wasn't a hallucination. It was the diary.

"Mum! How could you...!"

"Let me read this to you.", she didn't even accept his angry interjection and stayed perfectly calm as she started to read.

" _Retrieved from Bellatrix Lestrange, on the 2_ _nd_ _of October 1981: How he disgusts me. He's pathetic. I've always known that he's a coward. If the Dark Lord had asked me, I would have told him that his precious Lucius doesn't deserve to bear his Mark._

_Three days ago, he was ordered to kill the Weasley blood-traitor and he hasn't done it yet. He even hindered me and my husband to kindly help him._

_'What for kill him?', he asked. And that the Weasel would be of greater advantage to us alive._

_Bullshit! I know exactly why he didn't kill him – he couldn't!_

_The way he looked at that disgusting red head baby boy in the Weasel's arms! He reminded him of his own little prat at home._

_Oh, I've warned Cissy not to give him a child if she wanted to preserve anything of that man's dignity, but no! Now he's crying like a girl every time he holds that little shit! He's even weaker than before, not a single piece of man left in him. He's so weak he can't even kill on the Dark Lord's orders and all because of his precious, little Draco!_ "

There she stopped and closed the book, and the silence was ringing in Draco's ears.

He didn't notice that there were tears in his eyes until he tried to speak and felt the lump in his throat.

"Wha – " He cleared his throat. "What is this... Is this...?"

"You know that you can't manipulate this book.", Mum said softly.

Draco frantically wiped his eyes. "So this is... This really...?"

"I will take this to the Wizengamot."

Draco's eyes widened. He felt fear tug at his neck. "You want to bring him back?"

"Do you want to leave him to die in Azkaban?", his mother asked and for once, Draco could hear her voice tremble. "I love him, Draco."

Draco swallowed. "I know, but... I'm afraid it's just going to be like – This is _my_ life! I don't want him to tell me anymore how I should live it!"

Mum smiled and reached out to gently brush through his hair. "That's the right attitude. You just make that clear to him. After all: he loves you."

Draco sniffed and tried to stay calm.

He looked at the diary. Well, if his mother wanted to use it as evidence in court, there was no way that the Ministry wouldn't want to throw a proper look into it... Then better do it on Potter's responsibility.

"Mum.", he said and cupped her hand with his. "I have to tell you what happened today."

  
  


  
  


It was already getting dark outside when Draco reached Neville's flat in Hogsmeade.

He couldn't wait to ask him how his grandmother had taken the news, if they had thought about where his parents were going to live. How he was.

But he could only so much as open his mouth, then Neville was already lifting him from his feet and whirling him around with a great laughter of joy.

"You did it! Draco, you did it!"

Draco clung onto his boyfriend's shoulders and could only breathe when he was safely put pack on the floor.

"I don't know how to thank you, my love.", Neville whispered, cupping both his cheeks and looking at him with glinting eyes.

"You don't have to thank me.", Draco answered with a happy smile. "I love you."

"I love you too.", Neville replied and hugged him again, so tightly, Draco could feel his boyfriend's heartbeat in his own chest.

"So incredibly much.", he added against Draco's neck where he started to kiss him. "You don't know how I panicked when I woke up and you were gone. Merlin, I was so angry, I wanted to smash everything that got in my way at the Ministry. I was so scared that I'd never see you again."

"Me too.", Draco whispered hoarseley, and swallowed when Neville looked at him again, his eyes warm and dark and so full of love and longing.

Their kiss was just the same, sweet and long and deep, and a bit longer. And a bit deeper.

Draco could feel how he wanted to be one with Neville, how he _needed_ to be one with him again, and because his boyfriend was obviously feeling the same, they quickly ended up in his bed, naked and panting, their hot bodies against each other. In each other.

"N-Nev...! Neville..." Draco threw his head back and closed his eyes because the pleasure was overwhelming. But he opened them quickly again, as he didn't want to miss the look in Neville's eyes, not for anything in the world.

"F-fuck, Draco... M-my love...y-you're gorgeous, I love you."

It was a shame he couldn't answer. It would have been a shame that he was already coming.

But he knew that there would be a lot of next times and that made him smile.

  
  


"Whoah...that was hot. Did you know you smile when you come?"

Draco chuckled. "I don't know. You have to pay attention to it next time."

"Mmh. Yeah.", Neville smiled and kissed his cheek.

Draco turned his head to give him a proper, slow kiss.

"How about I make us some dinner?", Neville asked.

"Mh, that sounds great.", Draco replied. "Do I have to help?"

Neville chuckled. "If you want to, you can stay in bed until it's ready."

"Oh, can we have dinner in bed?", Draco asked, excitedly.

Neville raised both eyebrows. "Well...I can make an exception."

Draco was delighted with that and stretched his limbs as Neville left the bedroom in nothing but his underpants, his wand tucked in its side.

  
  


When Neville came back twenty minutes later, with two deliciously steaming plates of mushroom pasta, Draco hadn't bothered to get dressed or move anywhere yet.

He still lay in bed, naked, cosily wrapped in the Gryffindor blanket.

He sniggered when again, he could clearly read in Neville's face what he thought about that sight.

But to Draco's surprise, his boyfriend unwrapped him from the blanket after he had put the plates down at the bedside tables, and replaced it with his arms.

"I don't love you despite you're a Slytherin.", he whispered and gently let his fingers stroke down his naked body as he leant down to kiss him. "I love it that you're so proud and headstrong and sly. And vulnerable.", he added, having reached Draco's left forearm with his fingers.

Draco winced, but just out of reflex. It didn't hurt anymore.

Still, he felt the tears well up in his eyes as his boyfriend bent down to carefully kiss it and all of his scars.

When Neville looked at him again, Draco had to bite his lip.

Neville chuckled softy. "I also like how emotional you are. How sensitive." His fingers travelled on, over his chest, down his belly...

"I could carry you on my arms the whole day, my love..."

Draco snorted, because it was still difficult to deal with so much love and kindness. "The whole day?"

"Yes."

Draco lowered his voice. "And what do you do at night?"

Neville grinned daringly. And who would have thought that Neville Longbottom could grin _daringly_ only two years ago? He hadn't.

"Oh, I can show you.", he said, and Draco was sure it wasn't a question as the tall body slid on top of his and pressed him back into the sheets.

"What's with the food?", Draco dared to ask, because the pasta really looked delicious...just like other things.

"I can warm it again if it gets cold.", Neville answered, sounding as if he already had his mind on something entirely different.

But as obvious as it was that Draco was craving these kisses and touches he received, he softly put one finger to Neville's lips to get his attention, because he just had to know this last thing:

"Are you happy?"

His boyfriend answered with the most beautiful, beaming smile. "Yeah.", he said, "And you?"

Draco couldn't do anything else than mirror that smile and realise with quite some astonishment:

"Yes. I guess I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a short Epilogue, but I'd already like to thank you all for your support and interest in my story! It was quite a big project and it's always nice to see that others enjoy the story as well :D
> 
> For everyone who needs more Neville/Draco: I'm planning a second part to this story where we see more of their families and (Neville's) friends, but can't tell you yet when it will be ready to share.
> 
> BUT I guess there will be another Neville/Draco story first that will also feature Scorpius and Albus...  
> So thank you again and I hope we'll read each other soon ;)


	16. Epilogue

Draco muttered his disapproval as the insistent bleeping noise woke him rudely from his sleep. "That damn, evil Muggle thing..."

He still wasn't used to it, but he had to admit that it was, unfortunately, very effective.

Draco felt for his wand on the bedside table to turn off that awful noise coming from the other side of the big bed, only to realise, after a few seconds of unsuccessful groping, that his wand was still lying on the other table next to the alarm clock, because his boyfriend had, er...let's say, _won_ it from him yesterday in a very interesting duel that had ended with him surrendering himself to him completely.

Said boyfriend groaned and, with a blind hit somewhere in the direction of the noise, managed to turn the alarm clock off.

"Thank Merlin.", Draco sighed and snuggled closer to Neville, who still had his eyes closed but immediately wrapped his arms around him, pulling him to his naked chest.

Draco smiled and began to kiss Neville's skin.

"Wake up, sunshine", he whispered. "The shelves need stocking with my new potions before we open. And don't you have to fetch some herbs from Hogwarts?"

Neville groaned again, but started to rub his eyes. "Why don't we just...open later today.", he suggested.

"I hope you're not being serious, are you?", Draco laughed. "Our customers rely on us. Where's your discipline, darling?"

He could see that Neville grinned. "Yeah. You're right. You're corrupting me."

" _I_?", Draco repeated. " _I_ am corrupting _you_?"

Neville cut him off with a deep and loving kiss.

"You are. And I love it.", he whispered with a grin and wanted another kiss, but Draco pushed him away.

"Common, we really have to get up."

Neville sighed. "Alright. But", he added and smiled. "We can shower together."

Draco grinned. "Yes, that's right."

  
  


Moments later, Neville and he were standing in their bathtub, and with bathtub he meant a real one: having bought the detached house with the old barber shop to expand their shop also meant a bigger flat, and that, foremost, meant a bigger bathtub of course.

They had also upgraded the kitchen, which was an advantage for both of them: for the cook and for the benefitting one cooked for.

Today was a working day, so it wasn't anything big or special, but still very delicious and the right thing to start a day.

They had only sat down at the kitchen table when an owl arrived – and it wasn't the one bringing them the Quibbler.

"That's from Mum.", Draco recognised the owl immediately, and got up to open the letter.

It was a very small one, only a note, and the paper he unfolded contained only three simple words which had the power to let Draco's heartrate increase with anxiousness:

  
  


_He is here._

  
  


  
  


"Draco!"

His mother was awaiting him in the entrance hall, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

"Mum", Draco greeted her and hugged her. He was irritated that she wasn't beaming with joy, which made him even more anxious.

"Where is he?"

"In the living room.", she replied with a small smile. "You, er – you should know that I...I had to cut his hair. It was all matted and... But that doesn't matter.", she shook her head and looked apologetically.

Instead she put a hand on Draco's back and gently pushed him towards the door.

"Come on, go.", she encouraged him with a smile Draco could not read. "Go say hello."

He nodded, then gathered all his courage and went.

  
  


When Draco entered their living room, there was a man sitting in one of the armchairs, with very short, silver-blond hair and grey skin, which made up a stark contrast to the dark green dressing gown he was wearing, looking out of the window as if he was watching something interesting outside.

Draco stepped closer, clenching his hands to fists on either side of his body, straightening his back.

He was prepared to counter disapproval, ready to be disappointed by him one more time, ready to hate him for good – but he wasn't prepared for what he felt when his father slowly turned to him with glazed blue-grey eyes that looked at him, but didn't see him, and asked him with a distant smile:

"And who are you, young gentleman?"


End file.
